#all jokes here. this is also not an invitation to send me any hate comments/asks just because i say weird shit like this. look away ok | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Note

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years ago

Text

I Don’t Like A Gold Rush || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college's football team. Rumor has it, there's simply nothing he can't do. The same cannot be said about you, but you've never had an issue with that. You're happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you've taken an interest in him — and you're sure you shouldn't. There's no way this can end well for you... right?

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 17.3k

Genre: College AU, strangers to lovers, slice of life, mostly fluff

Warnings & Tags: discussed insecurities, alcohol consumption, reader almost has a panic attack at some point, shy jungkook, jungkook is bad at Feelings, Reader is bad at feelings too, mutual pining kinda, Jungkook has long hair, sfw, New Year’s Day themed.

A/N: I don’t know how I would name my stories without Taylor Swift. Anyway, this is more or less centered around the New Year (it was supposed to be more and then... it didn’t happen), and I hope you’ll enjoy it! Happy New Year everyone!

The first time you hear Jungkook’s name, it’s in the sentence “Man, is there anything Jungkook can’t do?”. You look up at your friend Jin from the book you’re studying. You have no idea who Jungkook is, but that doesn’t mean anything. Jin is always complaining about how you don’t know anyone on the campus, which you think is quite unfair.

…but then you really don’t know that many people on the campus.

“What’s going on?” you ask him, because he sounds extremely annoyed, and he shows you his phone. On it, there is a score for a basketball game. You think.

Your college is famous for its basketball team… Right?

“Uh-uh,” you still say with a nod, trying to make it look like you have any idea what you’re talking about.

“This kid is crushing it at school, the girls love him, and now this!” Jin complains, a little too loud, and shushing noises come from a spot behind you. You turn around to give the group an apologetic look. “I really shouldn’t have bet against him.”

Ah, there you know what to say.

“You really need to stop making bets. You never win them.”

Jin glares at you.

“And you are a terrible friend. You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“I’ll comfort you when you stop making the worst choices imaginable,” you mutter, going back to your work. Jungkook’s name, his supposed excellence, and that basketball match — if it even is basketball — leave your mind as fast as they entered it, without leaving a trace behind.

“So the school’s won another basketball game, huh?”

You look up at Namjoon who’s just arriving to the table, holding his tray in his hands. You know he can’t possibly be talking to you about that, so you’re not surprised when Jin appears behind him. That doesn’t stop you from throwing Namjoon a disgusted look.

“Really, Joon? Sports?”

Namjoon shoots you an amused glance from behind his glasses. It’s notorious in your friends’ group that you despise conversations around that subject. You hate anything that involves objects flying around and anything that’s played in a team, and, apparently, those are the only sports that people care about. They could discuss athletics, or swimming, which you wouldn’t enjoy but you wouldn’t hate, but that never happens.

“You were right, Jin. That Jungkook guy really is impressive.”

You tune them out. You don’t care about basketball.

“You’re talking about yesterday’s game?” Yoongi asks, coming out of thin air, and you sigh. You had been hoping you would have at least one person to talk to during lunch.

“Jungkook’s friends with Hoseok,” Jin says, leaning forward conspiratorially, which does get your attention. If that’s true, then that Jungkook guy can’t be a completely terrible person. Hoseok is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

That being said, he might have very low standards for his friends. You know him enough to appreciate him, not to judge his tastes.

“So I’m going to become friends with him,” Jin announces triumphantly, only to be rewarded by a chorus of groans and protests.

“But why, Jin?” you ask. “Please don’t talk about popularity. This isn’t high school anymore.”

“And that stuff was already stupid back then,” Namjoon adds, and you nod. You can always count on Namjoon to support you.

“And I hate people,” Yoongi says.

“And Yoongi hates people!” Namjoon immediately picks up. “Do you really want to make him go through that?”

You grin at the question. Yoongi’s misanthropy always comes in handy. Jin, however, is not amused, but he just shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s used to the three of you teaming up against him by now. Usually, it’s on academical subjects, but he isn’t phased by it anymore regardless of that. Not that there’s much that can phase Jin anyway.

“First of all, I said I was going to be his friend, not you lowly peasants, and second, he seems like a nice guy! Do I need another reason to want to make friends?”

You tilt your head.

“He’s protesting too much,” you say.

“I agree,” Namjoon nods. “That’s suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Come on,” Jin rolls his eyes, “do you really think that little of me?”

“And now he’s trying to guilt-trip us. Joon, can’t you analyze that conversation and figure out what it all means?”

“You know that’s not how literary analysis works, right?” Jin asks you, but you ignore him.

“Actually, it is,” Namjoon says, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’d say you were right with your comment,” he adds, looking at you. “I’d say… this is about parties.”

“You’re not going to actually believe—”

“Thanks, Joon,” you say, and the two of you high-five without looking at each other. Yoongi lets out an appreciate whistle.

Even if Namjoon and you aren’t being serious about this, parties actually make sense. Jin… isn’t quite a social butterfly but, unlike the three of you, he does enjoy people’s company to some degree. You know first hand that he’s been to a few this year — you had accompanied him for moral support — but they were pretty tame, and you’re aware that he at least wants to try some more intense stuff. The problem was that those were harder to be invited to. Hoseok could probably do something about it, but he tends to avoid parties on campus.

“Okay, then you should go for it,” you nod.

Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on either side of you, approve. Jin looks a little surprised at your reaction.

“That changed your mind?”

“You said you wanted ‘the full college experience’,” Namjoon explains with a shrug. “If you think that’s part of it, we wouldn’t want to hold you back.”

“We will judge you for it, though,” Yoongi warns without batting an eyelid, pokerface perfect, and you laugh. You won’t be mean about it, of course. You just might tease him a little.

“Thank you,” Jin says. “I’ll do it, then.”

Good. If you’re lucky, it will be out of his system next time you all have lunch together.

Lady luck had never been on your side, for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t like you got the worst of things either, but usually, things that could go wrong, did go wrong. Because of that, you tried your best to remove those things from your path. Sometimes, though, you just didn’t manage to identify them.

And that’s why, when you hear Jin’s voice and look up from your food, being the first at the table as always, you see he’s accompanied by two people.

One of them has fluffy, dark brown hair, falling on either side of his face and in his eyes. He’s talking and laughing, and there’s something that you can’t help but identify as mischievous in his smile. The other is slightly taller, with jet black hair held up in a bun. He’s quiet, mouth opening for silent laughs when his friend jokes. Between them, there’s Jin, and you think that they look good together. All handsome, all holding themselves with confidence.

You had realized before that Jin felt out of place in your group, from an outside point of view at least, but it’s never been as striking as it is now, as he’s walking with people he clearly belongs with.

It makes you really thankful that he’s your friend.

“Hey,” Jin says, smiling widely, “these are—”

“You’re untying your hair before eating?” you say, looking at the guy with the bun who just sat opposite from you and took off his hair tie with a sigh. He looks up at you with wide round eyes, like you just caught him red-handed — doing what, you’re not quite sure.

That is the first thing you ever say to Jeon Jungkook.

“Um. Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get hair in your food?”

You know people find you too blunt sometimes, think you come off as aggressive, but you almost never intend for that to happen. In that case, you just think the logic here is a bit surprising.

“That’s… a good point, actually.”

“(Y/N),” Jin sighs, “let me introduce you to Jungkook” (he points to the man who’s now tying his hair back up) “and Taehyung.” (he points to the other guy, who’s flashing you a smile.)

“Oh,” you say, looking back at Jungkook. “You play basketball.”

He lets out an awkward laugh and avoids your eyes. Instead, he grabs his fork and focuses on it, twirling it in his hand.

“Yeah, I do— I do that.”

Huh. It takes you a second to piece things together, and you think Namjoon will be of great help once he’ll be there, but for now, one conclusion comes to you.

Jungkook is shy.

“I play basketball too,” Taehyung says, leaning over the table, grinning at you, and you can tell that it’s his way of swooping in to save Jungkook. You can appreciate that.

“She hates basketball,” Jin warns.

“That’s a strong word,” you say, but only half-heartedly, because, well, you definitely don’t like it.

“I think it works.”

“You think what works?”

Jin’s face falls while you grin. If Taehyung is Jungkook’s savior, Namjoon is yours. Your friend sends you a questioning look as he sits next to you, facing Taehyung. He gives polite nods to the two basketball players, like they sit with you at lunch every week, but you notice that he doesn’t quite meet their eyes. Namjoon is not particularly shy, nor a misanthrope like Yoongi, he just isn’t too comfortable around people he’s just met.

You and Jin, well, you’re perhaps a little too comfortable. Not everyone likes it.

“He says I hate basketball.”

“But that would imply you care about basketball.”

“Exactly.”

“And you don’t.”

“I know.”

“Which means you don’t hate basketball. As always, you’re wrong, Jin.”

Jin looks extremely, extremely done with you, but when you and Namjoon high-five, Jungkook laughs quietly and Taehyung nods in appreciation — for the gesture, not the debate.

That is the moment when Yoongi drops his tray on the table and sends a weird glance towards Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What did I miss?” he asks. His tone is a bit dry, and you see Jin’s shoulders straightening. He knows Yoongi is going to be the most difficult one to win over. Not that you’ve been won over yet, but you’re not that difficult. Usually, people don’t like you, not the other way around. You don’t blame them. You’re not sure you’d like yourself very much if you were in their place.

“Oh,” Jungkook says spontaneously, “we had a class together last year! You’re majoring in engineering, right?”

Yoongi looks at him. His eyes are shining with suspicion, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Knowing him, he’s definitely wondering why Jungkook would even remember him.

“Right,” he finally confirms, slowly.

There’s a moment of silence, which Namjoon breaks.

“I’m a literature major, by the way.”

“That’s really cool,” Jungkook comments honestly, with the same spontaneity he displayed earlier.

“And I’m in mathematics,” you say.

“Wow. I thought you people existed only in legends,” Taehyung says while Jungkook avoids your eyes. You decide that, yeah, you like Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t say that, I like maths,” Jungkook protests, voice soft, much to your surprise — and, judging by his reaction, Taehyung’s.

You were right, you decide. Jungkook is not a completely terrible person.

You didn’t expect it to become a routine, for Jungkook and Taehyung to eat with you guys, but it does, and as time goes on, other people join your little table. You’re not sure you like that. It’s clear that those people are orbiting around Jungkook, which, good for them, but you don’t see why you need to be there for that.

You do see that Jungkook is not completely comfortable with all of it. He’s good at handling people, good at making jokes and at laughing at the right times, you notice, but there is a stiffness in his shoulders more often than not, and it looks like he’s well-trained at it rather than enjoying it. It kind of reminds you of Jin, except Jin is not as quiet the rest of the time. Taehyung obviously does his best not to let his friend deal with things alone, which is sweet, but he can’t do everything for him.

You barely exchange a word with Jungkook during that time period. You’re usually trying to be forgotten when the table is buzzing with noise, finding refuge in Namjoon and Yoongi’s company. You thought Yoongi would be an ally in reclaiming what’s always been your spot, but it quickly becomes obvious that he has a crush on Taehyung’s friend Jimin, so he never complains about the recent invasion of the table by strangers.

You hear a lot of basketball vocabulary. More than you care for, to be honest. That’s one of the few moments when Jungkook’s face lights up and he gets truly excited, with an almost childish happiness. His demeanor changes, from shy to confident, and the transformation never ceases to amaze you. As soon as the conversation ends, his shoulders fall, he smiles awkwardly, and focuses back on his food or his phone.

You’ve met his eyes a few times in those moments, because he often looks around him like he’s afraid someone’s noticed. He averts his very quickly, though, so you’ve never said anything about it.

So, really, there’s not much that changes. You still only speak to your three friends — you think Taehyung is a good person, and you don’t think he hates you, but you don’t have anything to say to each other —, and sure, you have a little less space when you eat and more noise around you, but aside from that, it’s pretty much the same. You think that’s a relief. You’re not too fond of change.

Usually, you’re pretty decent at spotting it coming. You did miss it when Jin said he was going to become Jungkook’s friend, but other than that you’re able to do your best to avoid it. You don’t see anything coming the day Taehyung calls out your name, though. You look up at him from the book Namjoon is showing you, surprised. He has an arm slung over Jungkook’s shoulders, and Jungkook isn’t looking at you, of course.

“Do you think you could explain a maths-thing to Jungkook?”

You blink at him.

“What’s the ‘maths-thing’?”

“Does it matter?”

You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook groans. You get the feeling that he didn’t really want Taehyung to ask you about it. He sends an annoyed glance to his friend, who is still smiling brightly at you, while pushing a lock of hair out of his face. His hair is tied, but this one traitorous lock always escapes.

“I’m struggling a little with probabilities,” he admits, glancing at you for half a second. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine once I can get my head back into it, I’ve just been training a lot recently and—”

“I can help you, if you want,” you say. “I’m not the most fond of probabilities, but it should be okay.”

“Great!” Taehyung says, patting his friend’s shoulder before Jungkook can answer. “You should do that then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Jungkook asks, actually looking at you this time. You meet his eyes, notice that he looks worried about it. You can’t figure out why.

“I really don’t,” you shrug.

He smiles at you, a small, hesitant smile, but a smile nonetheless. Probably the first one he directs at you. It’s a nice sight, you decide, and you smile back.

Jin’s sentence “is there anything Jungkook can’t do” takes all its sense on the day you meet Jungkook at the library to study. You don’t know what you expected. You never thought Jungkook was dumb or anything, but since Taehyung asked you to help, you thought he would have some difficulties, at least. However, as it turns out, he either understands immediately when you explain something to him, or he’s already understood it. He asks for some clarifications here and there, but all in all, you feel kind of useless.

“You don’t need me at all,” you say after a little while, and Jungkook looks up from the book with the worried wide-eyed look you’ve gotten used to.

“No, no, you’re doing a great job,” he protests. “You’re really helping me out here.”

“No I’m not. It’s obvious that you could do that all on your own.”

He deflates a little at that, looks away from you.

“You help,” he mumbles. “I have a hard time focusing when I’m alone.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense to you, actually. You’re good at focusing all of your energy on one thing, perhaps even too good, to the point where you easily get obsessed and become unable to take care of anything else, but even you need the right conditions for that.

“Okay,” you say with a nod.

Jungkook gives you an anxious look.

“So you don’t mind helping me out?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that catches you, but you can’t tell what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the hope, or maybe it’s the fear. You don’t understand what he’d be afraid of. Worst case scenario, you would say no. That wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“We can work together,” you offer. “You can ask me if you need help for anything and I’ll just work on some other stuff.”

He seems relieved, and again, you just don’t understand it. It’s not like you’re his only option. There are plenty of people out there who could help him. Plenty of people who would jump at the opportunity of helping him. You know that, because he’s always surrounded by those people, and everybody in school seems to know him. Even when you walked into the library with him earlier, before you got to the table you’re sitting at now, a few students greeted him. You don’t see why he would attach any importance to you, specifically, helping him. You barely know each other.

“Thanks,” he says, and he gives you a small smile. For some reason, that makes you drop the subject. Instead of asking about it — which, knowing yourself, you probably would have — you shrug it off and reply with a nod.

The silence that follows feels comfortable, to you at least. You’ve never minded silence. Jin hates it, though. You get to work, watching absent-mindedly as Jungkook goes through the lesson he was working on. He does ask you a couple of questions, but it’s probably to make you feel like you’re doing something rather than because he actually needs it. You still answer them, and watch him grin, satisfied with himself, when he turns out to be right every single time.

“Are you coming to Taehyung’s party this week-end?” he asks out of the blue after about an hour.

You look up, surprised. The two of you haven’t exchanged much, and certainly have not talked about anything other than— well, other than maths. His eyes are on his notebook, as usual, and you don’t get any insight as to why he asked the question.

“I don’t know. Is Jin coming?”

“Uh, I guess? Taehyung’s probably talked to him about it.”

“Then I’m probably going.”

Jungkook mulls over your answer for a few seconds, twirling his pencil between his fingers, and you feel like you have to clarify, which is not an urge you have often. Usually, you let people decipher for themselves what you meant. That works very well with Namjoon, sometimes with Yoongi, not so great with the rest of the world. Including Jin, though Jin compensates with his impressive ability to interpret everything you say in his favor.

“We always go to parties with Jin. For moral support.”

For all that you tease him, you genuinely care for him. You know he wants you to go with him, so you do. It’s as simple as that.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, but he still smiles at what you say, and it’s— it’s interesting. There’s something about his behavior that makes you curious, like you are when you’re trying to solve a complicated equation.

“That’s nice,” he comments.

“So… you’ll be there?” you ask. It’s taken you a long time to come up with that simple question. It often takes you a long time to find things to say to keep a conversation going. You’re pretty bad at it.

“It’s at my fraternity,” Jungkook informs you, glancing at you briefly, and you smile. This is exactly the type of party Jin wanted to go to. He’s probably happy about it. “The entire basketball team should be there.”

Great. People.

“That’s nice,” you say, because you have no idea what to add at this point. Jungkook simply nods, and the conversation dies an awkward death.

It’s another half an hour until Jungkook looks at his watch and starts putting his stuff back in his bag.

“I have to go to practice,” he tells you, clearly in a hurry. “Can we— Would you mind if—”

“We can do this again. If that’s what you meant.”

He gives you a bright smile, and that actually surprises you. He looks relieved that you finished his sentence for him.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.

And just like that, he’s gone, practically running out of the library. For someone who talks as little as he does, he sure leaves a void when he goes away, you think, looking at the empty chair.

But you quickly shrug it off. You’re used to being alone. You like being alone.

Jungkook isn’t going to change that.

You realize very quickly that, while accompanying Jin to parties was never something you particularly enjoyed, going to this one was downright a mistake.

You have this unspoken rule, with your friends, that you shouldn’t stick together the entire time. You’re supposed to wander off, find something to do for yourself, maybe talk to some people. Get that college experience. You’ve never had a problem to do that, even if you ended up quietly sipping soda in a corner more often than not.

Here, though, you simply cannot shake off the fact that you don’t belong here, that this is not your scene. The people here are loud, energetic, garish. They make you feel like a black and white picture, like a silent movie. You want to run away, but you can’t. You don’t want to leave Jin, Namjoon or Yoongi behind, even if you doubt they’re having the same kind of problems you do. You’re pretty sure you saw Yoongi talking with Jimin, and last time you saw Namjoon, you think a cheerleader was holding him by the hand and leading him out of the room. You don’t know what Jin’s doing, but you’re trusting that he’s okay.

You walk around aimlessly, find Jungkook and Taehyung playing beer-pong with some people. Maybe you should be happy to see people you know, but you’re not. If anything, it only drives the point home even more to see them so comfortable: you don’t belong here. Your chest tightens, and you turn around. You need a little peace and quiet. You need to get away.

“(Y/N)!”

You jump at the sound of your name. No one’s said it since you’ve entered the house. No one knows you here.

Except Jungkook, who’s right behind you.

He’s more confident than usual, and you guess, based on his slightly hazy eyes, that it has a lot to do with alcohol.

“Are you having fun? How long have you been here? It’s nice to see you!”

He’s speaking fast, excitedly, and as he does, he runs his fingers through his hair, which he’s let down. It looks good on him, you decide, even as you reply to him with a tense smile.

“Hey, you should join us, we’re—”

“Do you have a closet somewhere?”

Jungkook blinks.

“A closet?”

“Yeah.”

There are probably very few things that are less weird than asking a guy if he has a closet you can get into because you’re on the verge of having a panic attack and you can’t stay outside surrounded by people a second longer.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just leads you through the house and opens the door to a closet for you. You get inside without giving it much more thought, and he looks at you, puzzled. He’s actually looking at you, which you decide confirms that he is drunk.

“Do you— Are you waiting for someone?”

“No,” you say. “I just need a little break.”

He thinks about your answer for a while, probably longer than needed, and nods.

And then, he gets into the closet with you and closes the door.

Inside, it’s dark, with only a ray of light coming in. You can’t see his face, which doesn’t help you understand why he just did that. The space is cramped, and you can smell alcohol coming from his breath, can feel the heat radiating from his body, but it doesn’t bother you that much. It’s still better in here than outside.

“Why did you do that?”

“I thought I would keep you company. Like you’re here to keep company to Jin, you know?”

He’s drunk, definitely, and yet you feel genuinely touched by his words. You shouldn’t, because you doubt they hold that much meaning, but you can’t help it. You don’t need company, but that’s besides the point. His intentions are what matters.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It’s not a problem. You’re helping me with my maths.”

Your first reaction is to laugh at that, because it feels completely unprompted, but then the logic of the reasoning kind of appears to you.

“I mean it!” Jungkook protests. “You haven’t talked about how I’m good at everything or how I’m the one who should help you.”

You frown.

“You shouldn’t help me. You’re good at maths, but I’m better than you.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, and just like his earlier smile, it takes you completely by surprise. It’s not one of those quiet laughs that he usually has. It’s light and pleasant, and you briefly wonder what his face looks like when he laughs like that. You kind of want to see it.

“You’re a scary person,” he tells you when he’s stopped laughing. “You always say those things directly. It’s like you don’t even care.”

You’ve heard that before. Well, you haven’t been called scary until now, but people have said that you were intimidating. You, personally, believe you’re the least threatening person to have ever walked this Earth. You couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to.

Jungkook makes some sense here, though. Your filter is very limited, and there are a lot of things you say that feel acceptable to you, and that other people… don’t think are acceptable. You don’t mean to do it. It just happens.

“I think you’re good at a lot of things, though,” you say slowly.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh and then you hear him sliding down to the ground. You hesitate for about half a second before joining him down there. You fold your legs, holding your knees against your chest while you wait for him to say something.

“People are always saying that,” he finally mumbles. “But what if I’m not that good? What if I fail one day?”

It’s strange. You understand what he’s saying, understand the feeling of pressure, but you don’t understand the emotions that should come with it. In your case, you know that no one holds you to a higher standard than you do. It can be unhealthy, the way you can torture yourself if you don’t meet the standards you’ve set for yourself, but at least you’re the only one you have to answer to. Obviously, it’s not Jungkook’s case.

“Then you’ll try again,” you say, because that’s what you do when you fail. “Or, if you think it’s not that important, you won’t.”

“But what will they say?” he insists. “What if we lose the next game? Or the one after that? What if I fail a class? I can’t get anything done these days.”

“You’ll be fine,” you say soothingly, half-wondering how you ended up here, comforting the college’s golden boy in a closet after fighting off a panic attack. “It’s not like you’re the only one in your team. People will understand.”

You think they will. You hope they will. They should.

“You would understand.”

It’s true, but then, you really do not care for basketball, and it’s not like you have that sort of expectations for Jungkook. You wouldn’t think much of it, if he failed at something tomorrow. If it was the maths test you’ve helped him with, you would be surprised, but that’s because you saw him studying and it was obvious he had understood everything, not because you think he can inherently succeed at everything he does.

Which you guess might be the heart of the problem here.

You reach out to put your hand on his shoulder. It’s not that easy in the dark, and you wonder for a second if you’ve grabbed something else, until you feel hair tickling your skin. Yup, you were right.

“You have the right not to be good at something every once in a while,” you say softly. “No one can be on top of their game all of the time.”

You hear what sounds like a choked sob.

“I like that they’re counting on me, you know? I like that I’m helping them out by playing. I just— I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

He said when, not if, and that breaks your heart.

Without thinking about it, you slide your hand down his arm and grab his hand. You squeeze it in yours, gently, and then you inch closer to put your head on his shoulder. You remember reading that physical touch was good for people who were in emotional pain. You hope it helps him.

“You locked yourself in here with me because you thought I needed company,” you whisper. “There’s so much more to you than just being good at sports or having good grades. And if people don’t see that, it’s their loss. Because you’re a great person.”

He hums, but the sound is quiet, and it’s then that you realize how tense he is.

Shit. You must have crossed a boundary. You start to remove your hand, but he closes his fingers around yours, keeping you in place. He’s still tense, you can feel it everywhere his body touches yours. But he doesn’t let go.

“You mean that,” he says. There are so many emotions in his voice that you can’t identify them all. Relief, happiness, amusement… You don’t know where to start.

“I usually mean what I say.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, and you can hear the smile that’s dancing on his lips.

He’s still not letting go of your hand, but you don’t mind. Staying here, with Jungkook, in this small closet is as good a way of spending your evening as anything else you could do out there.

So you stay.

“Where did you all vanish Saturday?” Jin asks, and Namjoon, Yoongi and yourself immediately find your food a lot more interesting. You exchange panicked glances that mean ‘did none of you stay around? This was poorly coordinated’ before finally daring to look up.

“I talked to Jimin,” Yoongi says, face as inexpressive as always.

“I played some beer-pong with Taehyung,” Namjoon says.

That leaves only you.

“I talked to Jungkook,” you tell Jin. That is technically true. It omits the part where the two of you were together in a closet, but if you said that, there would be a lot of questions you don’t really want to answer to. Somehow, you think you would be more embarrassed to tell them that there was nothing going on there than if you told them you hooked up with him. You’re not sure why.

“Jungkook disappeared for a long time,” Jin says, narrowing his eyes at you.

You do your best to keep a straight face while you poke at your salad. You don’t want anyone here to have the wrong idea, and you finally manage to put your finger on what you’re afraid of. Humiliation. You’d feel humiliated at having to tell them that nothing happened and that there is nothing Jungkook could possibly see in you. They would be nice to you, of course they would, but you don’t want to see the look in their eyes.

“Did he? Maybe that was after I left. I didn’t stay that long.”

That’s a lie.

“Really?” Jin asks, clearly skeptical. “I think I saw you there pretty late.”

Maybe when you went down to get some snacks and drinks to bring back to the closet. Damn Jungkook and his stomach.

“Well, that depends what you mean by ‘late’ and ‘long’,” you say.

That’s you calling Namjoon for help, and he recognizes your SOS for what it is. From the way Jin’s face falls, so does he.

“She’s right,” Namjoon comments, so nonchalant you would almost believe he’s doing it naturally. “What is ‘late’, really? Isn’t it always—”

“Please stop,” Jin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just because you’re a literature major doesn’t mean you’re the only one who understands words.”

“Actually it does,” you say with a nod. “That’s exactly what it means.”

You start lifting your hand for a high-five, relieved Jin’s attention is off you, but he sends the two of you a dark glare.

“You two are unbearable. Don’t do that.”

“We have to,” you protest. You would hate to miss a chance to high-five Namjoon.

“No you don’t, you—”

“Actually they do,” Yoongi says, and your jaw drops. Yoongi never intervenes, and you had always thought that if he did, it wouldn’t be in your favor. “That’s exactly how gravity works.”

Jin looks like his soul has left his body. He only comes back to himself after you, Yoongi and Namjoon have all exchanged high-fives.

“I hate you,” he says, sounding terribly tired. “I hate every single one of you.”

“Sorry Jin,” you smile warmly.

“No you’re not. You’re the worst.”

Except he sounds fond, affectionate, and you laugh before going back to your salad. You miss the quick glances your three friends exchange after that. They’ve all noticed you eluding and changing the subject. They don’t want to rush you, know you would hate it and that it’s better to drop it.

But they’ve noticed.

Working with Jungkook on Wednesday afternoons easily becomes a habit, so easily you don’t even notice it until it’s something you look forward to during the week. It adds to the time you already spend eating with him and Taehyung. Jungkook is, slowly, starting to become a part of your life. It’s a thought you refuse to dwell on, because it sounds so strange.

The Wednesdays afternoons are something special, though. You and Jungkook don’t really talk at lunch, even if he’s clearly more relaxed around you now, which you suspect is the reason why you’re ‘Taehyung-approved’. On Wednesdays, you— Well, you don’t talk much, either, but it’s different. It’s a time that only belongs to the two of you. You like that.

You slowly find out things about him, his family, his life. It’s never the main subject of conversation, but it makes you feel like you’re solving a puzzle.

“My father wanted me to focus on my classes and forget about basketball,” he comments once. “But I could do both.”

It makes you laugh, because he says it with obvious satisfaction, but it also makes you wonder if there’s more to it. Jungkook doesn’t add anything, though, and you don’t want to probe into his life, so you don’t ask. After that, small pieces of the puzzle keep falling into place.

“My high school coach told me I could train more if I didn’t work so hard for school.” But he could do both.

“My friends said I never hung out with them anymore and that I shouldn’t work so hard.” So he did both.

It’s always the same story. People telling him things, giving him opinions on what the should and shouldn’t do, and him stretching himself thinner and thinner. It’s almost a miracle he’s still doing as well as he is, honestly.

But his tone changes when he talks about his former relationships. He’s usually light and genuine, sharing with you just because. It’s clear that, as much as the stories make you frown, he doesn’t have an issue with them, and you guess that’s all that matters. The first time he says something about an ex-girlfriend of his, though, he’s guarded, almost careful. He sounds like he doesn’t want to tell you.

“My ex said I worked too much.”

He doesn’t add anything. Whatever it was she wanted, he couldn’t do it and work. Didn’t manage to do both. After that, he doesn’t look at you for the rest of the day, like he did when you first met.

You never get a name for the girlfriend. He talks about relationships again, but you don’t even know if he’s always talking about the same one. You doubt it, though, and it only makes things worse.

“My ex wanted me to attend fewer practices.”

“My ex said I didn’t care enough to make time for her.”

“My ex dumped me after I lost a game.”

That last one hurts you, because you remember him crying in the closet because of that exact fear. You want to take his hand again, but you can’t dare to.

“She’s stupid for that,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks surprised first, because you never comment on what he’s telling you, then a smile slowly forms on his lips.

“If the only reason she was with you was because you won a lot of games, you’re better off without her,” you add.

“That’s what Taehyung said.”

“Taehyung’s right.”

Jungkook goes quiet for a little while after that, to the point that you look up, worried that you might have offended him. When you do, he’s looking at you, something you can’t identify shining in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

He blinks like he’d just woken up for a dream, then nods. He doesn’t tell you that he hadn’t believed what Taehyung said — until you said it and he looked at you and thought that yeah, maybe he was better off without her indeed.

You’re surprised to run into Jungkook late one night, as you’re walking back to your dorm. It shouldn’t shock you — you do go to the same college — but you’re so used to only ever seeing him in the library or the cafeteria that meeting him outside is almost confusing. At least he seems taken aback as well, if the way his already round eyes widen is anything to go by.

Then, his surprised face morphs into a smile, and a wave of warmth hits you without a warning. You don’t get any time to think about it before he waves at you. His shyness is not completely gone, and you see him waver, hesitate, even as he’s walking up to you. You’re quick to close the gap between you, meeting him in the middle. Just in case.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. He has what you identify as a sports bag, slung over his shoulder, and you wonder what he was doing out so late. You were working at the library until it closed, which is far from being rare for you, but that obviously wasn’t his case.

“Hey,” you reply, smiling back. “Were you— training?”

Amusement flashes in his eyes at the careful way you chose your words, afraid to get it wrong. As he grew more comfortable around you, he also started making fun of you for not knowing the first thing about basketball. Strangely, you don’t mind that much.

“I was at the gym,” he says. “Practice was earlier today.”

“Oh,” is all you can muster. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Should you ask what he was doing at the gym? The answer would only leave you with more questions, you’re sure.

You’re still debating it when Jungkook clears his throat. He reaches for his ponytail and undoes it, shaking his head so the hair fall back into place. The sight is— interesting. Pretty. You’re not sure why you’re so fascinated by it.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” he asks, slight concern in his voice. “It’s late.”

“Is it on your way back?” you question, frowning. You would hate to be a bother.

“No, but—”

“I’m fine, then. I do that several times a week, I’ve never had a problem.”

That was, apparently, not the thing to say. Jungkook only looks more worried now.

“Several times a week? That’s really not careful.”

“I don’t see a problem, there’s no one around.”

“That’s exactly my p—” He stops and shakes his head, but gives a look you’ve seen before. A lot. It’s a look that says ‘I can’t believe someone as smart as you can also be so stupid’, in those exact terms. “Expected value,” he then says, and your eyes widen a little. Maths! Great. You can do maths. “Let’s say there’s a 99% chance nothing happens. Your gain is still minimal.”

Well, you get to study late and enjoy a walk home alone at night, but you’re willing to humor him.

“But in the one per-cent where something bad happens…”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know exactly where this is going, and you let out a sigh. He’s not wrong. On that aspect, at least.

“Fine.”

He grins widely.

“I just beat you at maths.”

“You didn’t beat me, I—”

“I just beat you at maths!”

You roll your eyes, choose to let him have that. It’s not going to change anything to your behavior after tonight, because the day has not come where you’ll let probabilities rule your life, but, after all, you don’t mind sharing your night walk with him.

Jungkook starts showing up to walk you home whenever he can. It’s not every time, which you’re kind of thankful for — you like his company, but you like being alone just as much, and you need a healthy dose of that every week —, but it does happen regularly. You find him sitting in front of the library, freezing cold, and you take pity on him, buying him a coffee from the vending machine inside, seconds before they lock the building.

That’s how you find out he likes his coffee tasting as little like coffee as possible.

Sometimes, he joins you later, and you hear him jogging to catch up with you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that that defeats the purpose of everything he’s doing, because it’s absolutely terrifying.

As the days turn into weeks, the air becomes colder, and you start seeing Christmas decorations appearing over the campus. You don’t know who is in charge of doing that, but they must be excited about it, because tinsel and few strings of fairy lights start appearing around the campus at the end of November. Jungkook is delighted by it, and you enjoy watching his reactions. You’re not big on Christmas, personally. You enjoy the tradition, the gift-giving, spending time with your family — you’re visiting them briefly this year — but you mostly see Christmas as an excuse for all of that. Jungkook loves it, though, and you decide that his excitement makes you like the season a little more.

“Hey, we should make a stop,” he tells you one night.

You look at him like he’s crazy. It’s the middle of December and it’s already half past nine. You’re cold, it’s dark outside, and you want to go home.

“A stop?” you repeat.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, and he has that wide, childish grin that you’ve seen only a handful of times. You haven’t learned how to resist it yet. “C’mon!”

You sigh. But you follow.

As it turns out, he takes you just a little way off your usual trajectory. Behind a building you’ve never really paid attention to, Jungkook leads you to a small basketball court. You eye the place suspiciously. It’s empty, well lit, but you never know. A ball might come out of nowhere to hit you in the face, as they had a tendency to do when you were in high school and playing for a team that had picked you last.

By the time you turn around to tell Jungkook that, okay, you’ve seen it, let’s go home now, he’s taken off his coat and pulled a basketball out of his bag. You don’t even want to ask. His grin is even wider than earlier.

“C’mon,” he says.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me show you, okay?”

You want to say no but— It can’t hurt, right? And Jungkook loves basketball, and you’re his— friend or something, so you should try to take some interest in it.

You take off your coat and let him lead you onto the court. There, you watch him as he dribbles in what you guess is an effective way (you can’t know for sure, you’re barely able to catch the ball after it’s bounced once so your standards are incredibly low), and then demonstrates his ability to score a handful of times. It’s not that you’re not impressed — again, you can’t do anything with this unpredictable, devilish round thing — but you also can’t say this is a quality you think much of.

You liked it a lot better when he convinced you to let him walk you home by talking about the expected value.

“You want to try?” he offers, holding the ball out for you.

You would rather die.

But you take the ball from his hand and eye the basket like it’s personally offended you. That makes Jungkook laugh.

“You can get closer than that,” he says.

You hold back a groan, aim and, of course, fail. It’s almost a relief. You can cross that off your list, again, just like you did as a kid first, then as a teenager. You’re bad at sports, always have been and, considering the effort you’re putting into it those days, always will be. That’s something you can count on.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook’s caught the ball and is running back towards you.

“Okay, let me show you.”

Is he going to— No, he’s just demonstrating it. You’re kind of disappointed not to get your typical ‘guy teaching girl anything sports related’ moment, disappointed that he doesn’t come to stand behind you to show you like they do in movies, but you can’t unpack that right now. You do watch with some degree of interest as he shows you how to position yourself.

“So you really aim for the line above the basket, not the basket, okay?”

“If you think that just because I aim for something I hit it…”

He chuckles, then gives the ball back to you, and you sigh. This. This is why you hate sports. It’s not the one-off failure, that would be fine on its own. It’s the constant humiliation whenever you even try it. You’re going to fail this attempt, and the next one, and the one after that. You’re a lost cause. You’re fine with it, too, but you don’t particularly want to go through that again.

You do your best, though. Not because you think it will change something, but because you kind of want to prove that this isn’t all you. That, even if you’re trying your hardest, there’s just something that refuses to let you score or do it right.

“Wait!” Jungkook walks over to you, puts his hand on your back, and you freeze. “You need to straighten yourself a little,” he says, placing his hand between your shoulder blades, and you nod. His hand is warm and large, you can feel it even over your sweatshirt. “There.”

He removes the hand, and you’re left a little off balance without him by your side. You shake your head quickly, shoot, and, without any surprise, miss.

Jungkook is on the ball just as fast as before, but you’re as quick as him to grab your coat and put it back on. You’re already feeling warm all over, though.

“You don’t want to try again?” he asks, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Of course, you take pity on him.

“Maybe next time,” you say.

He gives you a bright smile, so genuinely happy, and you know that you won’t be able to deny him next time either.

Jin is the reason you’re here, and that is the version you will stick with. No, you didn’t want to go see a basketball game, even if Jungkook is playing. No, you didn’t feel the slightest bit curious about it. No, you would not be there if Jin hadn’t asked. It’s Jin’s fault if you’re here on a Friday night instead of being, well, at your place, likely doing something equally as unproductive.

You don’t even understand what is going on in the field. There’s a lot of running and throwing the ball, that’s for sure, but then, you’ve just learned that scoring from different places in the field and at different moments will not earn the players the same amount of points.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your friends look at you with such consternation as when they had to explain it to you.

In that situation, you can’t say that you get much from looking at the field. You definitely follow Jungkook with your eyes, cheer and clap when he scores, and let out cries of disappointment with the rest of the crowd when he doesn’t, but truly, the only way you have any idea what’s going on is by looking at the score board. And the truth is, that score is a little too close for comfort.

You hate that it has that much of an impact on you, but it stresses you out. Your leg bounces on the floor, an habit of yours Jin hates, but he’s too focused to notice, which is only more stressful. Jin always notices, and if it doesn’t, it must mean that the situation is dire.

The remaining seconds are slowly ticking down. Jungkook’s team is ahead by only one point, which means that if the other team scores, they will win. You think. You’re not entirely sure, but for your defense, you’ve just heard about it. Jungkook seems to be everywhere on the field. Taehyung is his shadow, perhaps not as noticeable or as spectacular in his actions, but certainly effective.

Again, you have no knowledge of basketball whatsoever.

Jin grabs your thigh, and only then do you realize that something’s happened. The action was so quick, so smooth, that you missed it entirely — but maybe you were also kind of thinking of something else.

Someone from the other team — you don’t even know your school’s team’s players, you’re not going to learn the other ones — just made a break for it. Based on what you can tell, Taehyung blocked his path, pushing him straight into Jungkook’s arms. In a movement you cannot begin to comprehend, Jungkook takes the ball from him, without ever stopping his run.

After that, he’s unstoppable.

He crosses the field, looking almost like he’s dancing in the way he avoids his opponents, and, of course, scores.

The time falls to zero. The crowd stands up like one man, screaming and shouting, and you yourself find yourself jumping up to hug Jin. He hugs you back, but the two of you quickly separate, patting each other’s backs awkwardly.

Jin starts talking with Namjoon and Yoongi, but you tune them out — it’s not like you understand what they’re saying anyway — to look at the field. The players have lifted Jungkook on their shoulders and he’s laughing, holding on to them so he doesn’t fall, and you grin.

“Come on,” Jin says, “let’s go congratulate him!”

That sounds like a terrible idea, you think. You won’t be the only ones, as the crowd has already invaded the field, and you doubt you’ll be able to get very close.

You still follow him. You alternate between clinging to his arm and to his shoulders so you don’t lose him, and trust him to elbow his way through the crowd. You hear him apologizing profusely in front of you, but he does not stop. Slowly, you make it down. Once you’re off the stairs, people are not as compactly gathered, and you can just walk between them. Jin grins at you, and you give him a thumbs up. Yeah, he did good here. You can give him that.

“Hey, Jungkook!” he calls out.

Jungkook was talking with some girls, but he looks up at the sound of his name, excuses himself, and jogs towards the two of you.

And it is then, in the few seconds it takes him to get to you, that it hits you. Like a ton of bricks.

You had known that Jungkook was objectively attractive, of course. There was no ignoring that. But Jin was objectively attractive, too, and that had never changed anything between the two of you. With Jungkook, right now, it does. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he wipes his chin with his shirt, and oh no, you can see his well-defined biceps and the line of his abs, and some hair is escaping from his ponytail, and he’s grinning with a happy, proud smile, and his eyes are shining and—

Jungkook is hot. That’s your realization. You had been aware of it, technically, but it’s like it only clicks for you at that exact moment.

“You came,” he tells you with a bright smile, and you can feel your entire face heating up. You pray that it’s not visible.

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “Great, um, great game?”

It sounds like an interrogation because you have no idea if it was one. It looked difficult, but maybe that was because they played terribly today. You don’t know that.

Jungkook’s smile widens a little, and you know that he has you all figured out. He knows you don’t understand the first thing about this whole thing.

“Thanks,” he still says.

His chest is still heaving quickly, and it draws your attention to his— his everything. The way he’s leaning towards you as he’s trying to catch his breath doesn’t help either. You wait for Jin to say something, to save you, but when you look around, you realize the traitor has abandoned you completely.

Okay, he hasn’t technically abandoned you, he’s just gone to congratulate Taehyung, but it’s the same difference.

You hear someone else calling Jungkook’s name before you’ve figured out what to say. He looks around, then gives you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I—”

“No problem, you should— I have to go anyway.”

This is not like you. You’re an awkward person, and you struggle in social situations, but you don’t usually trip over your words like that. You kind of hate it.

“Okay, so, um, I’ll see you…?”

“Wednesday, yeah. Or— before. At lunch. If you’re there.”

This is terrible.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you one last smile, and then he’s off, and you’re standing alone in the middle of a crowd. Your chest is heavy and it feels painful.

You hate this.

It’s only after that that you start realizing how big of a part Jungkook now plays in your life. He walks you home at night sometimes. You eat with him once or twice a week. You study together for an entire afternoon on Wednesdays. He’s just— everywhere. And it’s not that it’s a bad thing, because the feeling you get when you see him is a pleasant one, but it is disconcerting. It’s something that you have no control over whatsoever and that’s not— that’s not good for you.

You realize how much attention you were already paying to him, too, which is even more annoying. The signs were there. You should have understood this sooner. If you had, maybe you could have prevented it.

Because that’s the thing. You know the situation is ridiculous. You believe Jungkook sees you as a friend, and you’re happy with that, but there is no way he thinks of you as anything else. That is not an idea you should even begin to entertain. You can handle rejection, you’re used to it in so many aspects, though it’s rarely romantic, but you cannot take getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed.

The thing is, you can’t help it at this point, can’t force your feelings back in. There is so much to like about him. The way he plays with his hair, the quiet laughs when he’s in public, the loud ones when he’s walking you home, the sparkle in his eyes when he asks you a question in maths and it turns out he already had it right, the look on his face when he talks about basketball,… There’s so much.

You briefly consider avoiding him, but that’s not really an option. You like being his friend. You see your feelings as annoying, pesky little things that have no business being there in the first place. You don’t even hate the rush that goes through you when you see him, the way just looking at him brings a smile to your lips that you simply can’t hold back.

But you really, really hate the wishful thinking. The hope.

The feelings are fine, as long as you don’t think too hard about it. As long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Because that would break your heart.

And it’s only a matter of time before that happens.

You really considered declining when Jin asked you to come to this New Year’s party. Your last experience had effectively convinced you that those new parties he was getting invited to were not for you. That was fine, to each their own, but that did mean you didn’t really want to go. He clearly didn’t need you there anyway. You didn’t even know why he asked.

But he did, and he insisted, and he gave you his best puppy eyes, and that’s the thing about Jin: he’s very, very good at giving puppy eyes.

So that’s why you’re there, wearing a red dress that’s way too flashy for you, leaning against a wall and staring into the void. You feel empty and, though you’re not alone, lonely. You’re surrounded by strangers, and there are people everywhere in the house, but you don’t know them, and you can’t just start a conversation with them. It’s not something you do, it’s not even something you want.

You haven’t felt the urge to lock yourself inside a closet yet, though, so you guess that’s an improvement compared to last time.

Looking around, you can see Jimin, perched on the counter, listening to Yoongi talk with a smile on his face. Jin is somewhere else in the room and, though you can’t see him, you sometimes hear him, so you know he has his flirting voice on. Namjoon is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably a good sign. He always get lucky at those parties. You don’t know how he does it. It’s impressive, honestly. Hoseok showed up earlier, and everyone greeted him like he was a star — which is kind of accurate, actually, at the campus’ scale.

You know, of course, that Jungkook and Taehyung, as inseparable as ever, are by the pool table. You also hate that you know it, because now your mind is constantly wondering if it’s weird that you haven’t been there yet, or if it would be weird to show up. Neither, probably, because exactly no one cares except for you, but you’re the master of torturing yourself with useless considerations.

God, you hate having a crush. It’s just so— unpractical. You also hate that you didn’t see that one coming, and that you didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. Usually, you’re pretty good at nipping those kinds of feelings in the bud. Now, you can only wait it out.

With a sigh, you push yourself away from the wall to wander aimlessly around the house. You promised Jin you’d stay until midnight, and you intend to keep that promise. It’s not like there’s anything for you to do, but still, that way you can look like you’re doing something and look a little less weird. Or maybe you don’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Passing in front of the room with the pool table, you realize that Jungkook is gone. Taehyung is still there, playing with Hoseok, both looking pretty wasted, but Jungkook has vanished. That’s not good. You don’t want him to spring up on you out of nowhere like he did last time. You won’t know how to react if that happens, probably fumble for words, and it will be very unpleasant and very embarrassing for everyone.

You consider finding another closet, then decides against it. There’s just fifteen minutes left until midnight, anyway. That’s not too long. You can just wait it out.

You slowly make your way through the house. No sign of Jungkook anywhere. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s already back to the pool table and you missed him completely. Maybe he’s locked himself in a room with a girl and—

Oh you hate this. You hate feeling jealous. You hate that you have no control over it, you hate that it makes you sad, you hate that you have no right to feel like that. Jungkook isn’t yours. He’s probably even considered you for anything. You should consider yourself lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

You do your best to push everything out of your mind. Alcohol has never looked more tempting, but you don’t want the hangover with the morning, so you ignore the inviting bottles of beer and walk out.

It’s freezing — of course it’s freezing, it’s December you idiot, is there anything you can do right tonight — and you shiver, but you stay there. The cold is both numbing and soothing, and while you’re mentally complaining about it, you’re not thinking about anything else, so that’s good.

The door opens and closes behind you, and you guess someone is coming out to smoke. You move over to give them some space, but just as you do that, a jacket falls over your shoulders. You jump at first, and then the warmth makes you sigh in relief.

“You shouldn’t go out without a coat,” Jungkook says, because of course it’s him.

“I feel that you’ve been scolding me a lot recently,” you chuckle, glancing up at him.

He pouts, buries his hands in his pockets. He’s obviously cold as well, but at least his shirt covers his arms.

It also hugs his muscles real nice, but that’s besides the point.

“That’s because you make very poor decisions,” he mutters, looking at his feet. “You have to realize that.”

“You’re right. I could have taken my coat outside.”

“You know that walking back all alone in the middle of the night is way worse,” he protests, and then you laugh, because that’s exactly what you wanted, and he goes quiet for a second. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, looking away from you again.

“I’m not,” you say, and you take a step in his direction so you can bump your shoulder against his. “You shouldn’t worry that much, but I think it’s nice that you do. I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“That worked really well,” he says, and he sounds surprised about it. You wonder if it’s because he usually doesn’t get angry for stuff, but you can’t tell for sure. “Hey, you—”

People start shouting numbers inside, and you turn around to look at them.

“It’s midnight,” you say.

“Five!”

You look up at Jungkook. He’s significantly taller than you. Not as much as Namjoon, but still.

“Four!”

Jungkook looks back at you, smiles, and it takes your breath away. His hair looks very good like that, you think absent-mindedly, with the way it falls on either side of his face.

“Three!”

It’s too late to go back inside now. It would definitely be a weird thing to do. Which means you’re here, alone, with Jungkook.

“Two!”

Your eyes flicker to his lips. You wonder what it would be like to kiss them. You haven’t let yourself even consider it before, but right now your brain isn’t functioning all that well. Probably because of how loud your heart is beating in your chest.

“One!”

You look back up and his eyes are wide and focused on you. There’s that same tension in his shoulders as when you first met him, except, back then, he couldn’t look at you, and now it seems that he can’t look away.

“Happy new year!”

You decide you shouldn’t think about your next move. You get on your tiptoes to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips, right at the border between friends and something else, but he leans forward right at that moment, and his hands cup your face, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s like an explosion. You don’t know what you should focus on. How warm he is, how soft and large his hands are, how his lips move against yours, how he tastes, or simply the fact that he’s kissing you, Jungkook is kissing you!

The door slams open, and the two of you move away in a jump.

“Happy new year Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, obviously drunk, soon joined by several other members of the basketball team. If he’s seen what happened, he doesn’t say anything, and you doubt Taehyung would have that kind of control over himself.

Soon, Jungkook is surrounded and they start to drag him back inside. He gives you a brief, apologetic look, then follows them, laughing. You remain there, frozen, unsure of what to do. You take a hesitant step towards the door, only to see a girl planting kisses on his cheeks while he blushes. What gets to you, though, is the arm he’s wrapped around her, the way he’s tracing circles on the naked skin of her shoulder. It makes the gesture look… intimate. Personal.

You let out a brief, bitter laugh, that there is fortunately no one to hear. You feel confused, but mostly, you feel stupid.

Fuck that.

It doesn’t take long for you to drop the jacket onto a chair and find your coat. You wish a happy new year to Namjoon, when you pass by him on your way out, and he looks a little surprised, like he hasn’t heard the shouting. You don’t want to know what he could have been up to.

You’ve kept your end of the bargain, you think as you leave. Jin won’t be able to complain to you. You feel some petty sort of satisfaction when you step outside and find yourself alone alone, finally. You like this. You like being alone. You’ve never asked for anything else.

You give one last look to the party, then vanish into the night. You’re better off on your own anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming,” you say, nonchalantly, as everyone around the table is talking animatedly about a party for the next week-end.

You had hoped it would go unnoticed in the middle of the conversation, but, unfortunately, that doesn’t go as planned. Taehyung turns horrified eyes towards you, Jin, Namjoon and Yoongi all look surprised, and Jungkook… You don’t know how to read him. There’s that surprise, as well, but then he looks down before you can tell anything else. Not that that changes much. He’s barely looked at you today.

You haven’t talked to him since New Year’s Eve. You had other things on your mind, and then he didn’t show up at the library last Wednesday.

“What do you mean, you won’t be coming?” Jin asks. “You always come to parties.”

You shrug. You don’t miss the alarmed looks your friends are exchanging, and you’re sure Namjoon can see through you. Because it’s not like you to do something like that, whatever reason you may give.

“I don’t like them. They’re too loud, and I can’t say that I really enjoy standing alone for half the night.”

“You could stay with us,” Namjoon offers.

“And watch you pick up a girl every time? No thank you,” you reply with a disgusted shiver.

“You could stay with me,” Yoongi says.

You give him a look, and he grimaces, backing down immediately. Okay. He can see why you wouldn’t want that either. Plus he’s pretty sure that Jimin and him are about to get it on after weeks of flirting, so it’s probably not a great idea.

“What about me?” Jin asks. He doesn’t sound as energetic as usual, his voice almost quiet, and you realize that he probably feels bad because of what you said. He knows you come to those parties because of him, so knowing you don’t have fun at all when you’re attending — you understand that he might feel responsible.

“I think I would bore you very quickly,” you chuckle. “You’re not going to get the fun you want with me. But it’s fine, really. I tried it, and now I know it’s not for me. I can just—”

“No,” Taehyung says.

You blink.

“No?”

“I’m taking this personally,” he tells you, looking you dead in the eye. “You’re coming to this party and I’m going to make you enjoy yourself.”

You’ve never seen him so serious, and you can’t help it. You burst out laughing.

“Taehyung,” you say softly when you’re done. “I appreciate that, I do, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then winces and closes it. You’re not sure what happened there, but he gives Jungkook an offended look.

“I’m sorry,” you add. “I’m sure your parties can be great, but—”

“I get it,” he sighs. “But you owe me.”

You’re not sure why, but fine.

“And you can’t say anything bad about those parties, to anyone. Ever.” In that moment, he looks almost threatening, and you blink, confused. He can’t possibly take it that seriously, can he?

Then he yelps and rubs his leg. He gives Jungkook another annoyed look, but Jungkook doesn’t even look up from his food.

“Leave her alone,” he just mumbles.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t add anything. He does give you a long, pointed glance, though, before muttering under his breath something that sounds a lot like “I won’t let that slander stand,” and you think that’s hilarious too.

When you risk a glance at Jungkook, his arms are folded over his chest, and he looks deep in thought. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on his meal, though he’s not touching it. It’s stupid, but the image of a child that has just been scolded flashes in your mind.

“Jungkook? Is everything alright?”

He jumps at your question, looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes meet, but it’s extremely brief, and your chest tightens. This sucks. You thought the two of you had gotten past that now, and you hate that you lost what you had. It’s not like it’s your fault. He kissed you, and then he bailed on you first chance he got. Why would he do that, why would he risk it, if he was going to react like that afterwards?

“I’m fine,” he says with a tense smile, and you doubt it’s true, but you don’t know what you should ask him to confront him about it. You don’t want to talk about the kiss ever again. You certainly don’t want to do it in front of your friends.

So you jump on the first chance you get to leave the table. You don’t ask yourself if it’s a weird thing to do. It probably is, but fuck it, you’re weird, and everyone else can deal with it. You refuse to subject yourself to something unpleasant longer than absolutely necessary.

Except the looks you get are mostly concerned ones, from Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook does look up as you walk away, eyes following you almost longingly, and then he lets out a long sigh that catches Taehyung’s attention. He doesn’t say anything, but he narrows his eyes at him.

God. He really has to get everything done here, doesn’t he?

At first, you think that this is it. Your— your whatever it was that you had with Jungkook is over. You’ll see him around every now and then, and maybe he’ll give you a polite nod, though it doesn’t look like he would even do that right now, but there won’t be anything else. You’ll go back to being basically strangers, and it will be fine, because really, nothing happened there, right? You had a crush on him, he kissed you once, and then nothing. It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

Sure, it makes you a little sad. Sure, you catch yourself looking at him while he’s surrounded by girls who are all so much better for him than you ever were, and it hurts a little. Sure, walking back home alone at night is a little more unpleasant than it used to be, but that’s the thing. It’s only a little. You would almost pat yourself on the back for it. Congrats, (Y/N). You made it out before you got too attached. You probably avoided a world of hurt.

Because you know. You know that if you had gotten in too deep, it would have hurt like hell to not have Jeon Jungkook. And sure, it hurts right now.

But only a little.

You’re good. You’re safe. You know that Namjoon and Yoongi would nod if you told them about it. They understand, in a way a lot of other people don’t. You don’t think that Jin would, for example. He would tell you to take the risk, not understanding that people like Jungkook used to pick you last for their teams when you were in high school, not understanding that as far as you’re concerned, you’ve handled more than enough rejection throughout your life. But Namjoon and Yoongi… They’re definitely more successful than you in matters of the heart, but they would still understand. Not that you’re going to tell them about it, because it’s a stupid story, because there never was anything there, and because you’d feel really dumb talking about how you thought, how you hoped that— You’re not going to tell them anything. At least everything’s okay now.

And then, Jungkook appears at your usual table at the library on a Wednesday afternoon. He drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat next to you. You’re surprised to see him when you look up, too focused on your studies to notice him approaching. He has big, wide doe eyes, and he watches your reaction carefully.

“You’re— This seat isn’t taken?”

You shake your head. No. People rarely come here, and you don’t really study with people. Well, didn’t, you suppose.

“Do you mind if I sit here?“

“The seat’s free. You can take it if you want.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to react. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You never considered that Jungkook would— That he would—

“I, um, I like studying with you. It helps me focus,” he says, eyes flickering away from you. “So, if you don’t mind I’ll— Can I come back here on Wednesdays?”

You want to tell him that you can’t stop him, that he can do whatever the hell he want, but even though it’s on the tip of your tongue, you don’t.

“Of course you can,” you say instead.

Jungkook looks up long enough to flash you a smile, and you know. This isn’t over, and you’re not going to be fine. You’re probably going to feel crushed, sooner than later, and you could have stopped it all right now.

You think about Yoongi and how not like him it is to be doing what he is with Jimin. How he’s taking a risk. How it could oh so easily not have paid off.

It’s going to, of course. You just need to look at Jimin’s eyes when he’s talking to Yoongi to know that. But Jungkook doesn’t look at you like that. Jungkook doesn’t look at you at all.

And yet here you are. Taking that exact same risk.

God. You can be so stupid some times.

Jungkook glances at you quickly while you’re deep in thought, tapping your pencil against your cheek, and a small smile forms on his lips. He’s quick to glance away, because he would hate it if you caught him, of course, but the smile doesn’t fade.

He couldn’t have forced it to do so if he tried.

“You have to come to the next game.”

“Taehyung, hey, nice to see you to, I’m doing fine, I—”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). I know you hate basketball and everything that breathes, but—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—this is really important and— Wait, really? Thank you. I feel that means a lot coming from you.”

“Is that how you see me? I don’t hate everyone, Taehyung.”

“Can you give me a list of people you don’t hate?”

“Well, you, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon…”

“Jungkook?”

“…Sure. Jungkook. Why do you want me to come to the next game?”

“Because we might lose.”

“And I’m supposed to change that how?”

“You owe me, remember?”

“I— Because of the parties? Seriously? I need to sit through hours of you guys running after a ball because I don’t like parties?”

“I would really appreciate it if you could avoid describing basketball as ‘guys running after a ball’.”

“I would really appreciate not having to go watch the game.”

“Don’t you want to support your friends on the team?”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be there. Just— stop that thing you’re doing with your eyebrows. Why are you even doing that?”

“You’re so slow. How are you so slow? I thought you were supposed to be smart!”

“Taehyung…”

“Just be there!”

“I will.”

“You better!”

“Or what, what will you— Taehyung! You can’t just run off like— Well. I guess he could.”

You hadn’t thought sitting through a basketball game could become a more painful experience to you than it already was. As it turns out, you were wrong. It was so much worse when the people you wanted to win were losing. Despite yourself, you found yourself getting invested, standing up and shouting encouragements along with Jin and Namjoon, and protesting loudly when things didn’t go your way.

You were not cut out for this. Not because you still didn’t understand half the rules — you could have by now if you had made the effort of memorizing them — but because of the stress. God, how did your friends handle that regularly? How did the players handle it? You kept looking at Jungkook. You could tell how unhappy he was with the situation, could see the disappointment settling in. He also seemed to get more nervous as time went by, which didn’t help his performance, and his words kept echoing in your mind.

”I don’t know what’s going to happen when I stop being as good.”

You’re half way through the game and things are not looking good when Taehyung waves you over. You run to the railway, straining to hear him, and when you finally understand what he’s saying, you regret making any effort at all.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”

But he is.

“You owe me, (Y/N)!”

“I’m already— What’s it even going to do?”

“Trust me on that one, okay?”

You glare at him, but he’s looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes, and there’s nothing you can do against that. You sigh deeply. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest just thinking about what he’s asking you to do. Maybe it’s not such a big deal for him, that sort of stuff, but for you— For you it’s downright insane to even consider.

“Kim Taehyung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, “if this goes bad, I’ll kill you and plant your head on a stick outside of my door to warn my enemies not to underestimate me.”

He has the audacity to shrug at that.

“It won’t go bad.”

You look up. Take a deep breath. And call Jungkook’s name.

The gym is insanely loud, and it takes both you and Taehyung’s efforts, as well as a lot of waving, for Jungkook to notice you. When he does, though, he runs towards you, worry obvious on his face. He’s looking directly at you for once, and the intensity of his stare almost makes you shiver.

“Is everything alright?” he asks when he gets there, eyes scanning you quickly to make sure that you’re okay.

“It’s fine, I just—”

“What are you doing here? You hate basketball. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. You don’t know how you’re supposed to do this, especially when he’s looking so puzzled and when he’s questioning your sanity for showing up at one of his games. You glance over at Taehyung who gives you a decided nod.

Ah. Fuck it.

Leaning over about as far as you can go, you cup Jungkook’s face, and as his expression turns to one of surprise, you kiss him. If people around notice or have a reaction, you can’t tell, because Jungkook pushes himself against you and buries his hand in your hair as he holds you. There’s not much space left for thinking in your mind, instead entirely consumed by thoughts of him. He’s completely sober this time, and you don’t taste alcohol on his tongue. He’s also not going as slow, almost desperately kissing you back, one strong hand supporting you so you don’t fall over, and you just melt.

It takes everything in you to push yourself away. When you do, you’re breathless, and he’s staring at you with eyes even wider than usual. You’re pretty sure Taehyung would want you to give an encouraging speech right now, but you don’t want to do that right now.

“I really don’t care if you’re winning or losing games,” you say instead. “If you’re sad, I’ll be sad with you, but it’s never going to change anything in how I see you. But I’ll be here encouraging you.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it tight.

“Promise?” he asks, almost childishly.

You’re not sure which part he’s referring to, but they’re all true, so you nod.

“I promise.”

He smiles, and then both him and Taehyung are running back across the field and getting yelled at by their coach, but even from where you’re standing, you can see their smiles.

You guess that means you’re not going to murder Taehyung.

“This is actually insane. How is Jungkook even doing that?” Yoongi asks in disbelief after Jungkook scored extremely impressively yet again, and you fidget in your seat. You’re very happy to see that, though you don’t how you feel about the smug looks Taehyung is sending you, but you don’t want—

“It’s the power of love,” Jin says, nodding like he just gave an essential truth to the meaning of life.

—this. You, very specifically, don’t want this.

“Jin,” you sigh, “there’s no such thing as—”

“Actually,” Namjoon interrupts you, “I think he’s right. The power of love is a thing, and I think this is a perfect demonstration of it.”

You gape at him, in shock. He betrayed you?

“Did you just—”

“Namjoon’s right,” Yoongi nods. “This is how the power of love works. You take love, and you turn it into strength.”

And then, him, Jin and Namjoon high five, and you gasp. Traitors. All of them.

But after that, Jimin says off-handedly “Maybe you should come and kiss me before my next competition” and Yoongi’s brain visibly stops functioning, so you consider yourself avenged.

After the match, you wait for Jungkook outside of the locker room. Jin insisted you should go celebrate on the field, but you had declined. It felt like the situation required something a little more private, so now you’re here, leaning against the wall, looking at your phone so you’ll seem busy, even if there’s nothing on there to occupy yourself.

You’re not the only one there, and that doesn’t help soothing your nerves. There are a lot of girls, all pretty and smiling. It makes you feel like a groupie, and you don’t like it. You’re relieved for a second when the door opens and the team comes out, but it doesn’t last long, because the girls are soon surrounding them. You remain where you were standing, watching the whole thing happen. It takes a few moments before you notice Jungkook’s bun standing out of the group, and it makes you smile.

You catch Taehyung’s eye first, and, after you’ve sent him a glare that you hope was threatening, he pushes Jungkook out of the group. At first, he seems confused, before he finally finds you. You wave at him hesitantly. He blinks a few times, his eyes wide, then walks towards you.

“Hey,” he says when he joins you. He’s towering over you. Usually, you don’t like that, and you’ve complained about having to look up at Namjoon more than once, but you don’t necessarily mind right now.

“Hey,” you reply.

Silence stretches between the two of you as you try to think of something to say. You should have prepared a speech, you know that, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to say it either.

“Taehyung told me he told you to kiss me,” Jungkook blurts out after a while, looking away from you, and you give him a surprised glance. “So, you don’t have to—”

“No, I wanted to kiss you,” you interrupt him, a puzzled frown forming on your face.

Jungkook’s head whips back towards you, and you just stare at him in confusion.

“Do you really think I would have kissed you just because Taehyung asked me to?”

“Well you— you came to the game because he asked you to, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“Jungkook!” someone from the team calls. “We’re going to grab a bite to celebrate, do you wanna come?”

Jungkook sighs, then gives you a sharp look.

“You wanted to kiss me,” he repeats.

You nod.

“Why?”

You bite your lower lip, and you’re not oblivious to the way his eyes fall to your mouth when you do.

“And I’m the blunt one,” you mumble.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just— I wanted to kiss you because I like you. Obviously.”

Jungkook swallows, and you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looks over his shoulder at his friends.

“You can go without me!”

There are some protests, but he ignores them to give you his entire attention. It’s… not an unpleasant feeling.

“You disappeared after I kissed you the last time,” he says.

“You left,” you protest immediately. “You kissed me, and then the second your friends arrived, you acted like nothing happened and you left.”

“I didn’t want to— I just— They’re really annoying about that stuff, you know? I thought it would probably be better if I talked to you after— ‘m sorry. I didn’t— didn’t realize it—”

You look at Jungkook, watch him fumbling for words, and it hits you like a ton of bricks, how much you do like him. Those words really don’t do it justice, and maybe you’re not quite ready to talk about love just yet, but you like him so much, so much it makes your heart swell, so much you don’t think what what he’s trying to tell you would change anything to it, and yet what he’s trying to say is exactly what prompts your realization. He didn’t want to hurt you. Wanted this to be private, for just the two of you, wanted to see how you felt about it. And maybe he went the wrong way about it, but it means everything that he was trying.

“Walk me home?” you ask.

Jungkook finally stops his rambling.

“Are you sure?”

Of course, he has to ask that now, after weeks of trying to convince him to let you walk on your own. Still, you smile and nod, and when you start walking side by side, you grab his hand. He freezes temporarily before grinning and squeezing your hand, pulling it into his pocket so you won’t be too cold, because the air of January is chilling.

“Congratulations for the game,” you say after a long, comfortable silence. You had almost forgotten about it.

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I had some help.”

And then, he winks at you, and your heart misses a beat. That’s when you understand something you hadn’t even considered before: if Jungkook stops being shy around you, you’re done for. You’ll be the one constantly flustered.

“So,” you say, slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, “why did you kiss me?”

“Um. Same as you?” Jungkook’s confidence disappears, and he returns to his awkward self, and you see that, as much as you like it, you want him to be comfortable around you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask innocently.

He gives you a horrified look that soon turns to an offended one when he notices you grinning widely.

“You’re so mean,” he says, but he’s smiling too, “you’re the meanest person I know.”

You’re laughing at that point, as you stop in front of your dorm.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I kissed you because I like you.”

It’s funny. You knew that was what he was going to say, knew it was coming, and yet it gets to you all the same.

“With you, I don’t feel like I have to be the school’s star, you know? I can just be— Jungkook. You don’t expect me to be anything else.”

He’s right. You like Jungkook. With his insecurities and his flaws. You don’t want him to perform for you, and you don’t care what he’s doing right and wrong. Just studying maths in the library with him makes you happy.

He eyes your dorm and takes a deep breath.

“I should go,” he says.

You hum.

“Yes, it would be a really bad idea if you came up tonight.”

But you’re not letting go of his hand, and he’s close to you now, close enough that you can feel his breath catching in his throat. It makes you smile.

“You’re so mean,” he repeats.

This time, instead of laughing, you kiss him, and it’s completely different from the two previous times. There is no uncertainty in this kiss, no surprise, no pressure, no fear. It’s perfect. Jungkook’s hand comes to cup your cheek, his lips soft against your own. His long fingers gently stroke your jaw as he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet. It only makes you yearn for more and when he moves away, you can see in his eyes that he wants more as well.

You just don’t think he wants it now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” you ask.

“I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says solemnly, and it rings like a promise, which makes you smile.

When you move away, though, he doesn’t let go of you, and a pouty expression appears on his face before he releases you.

“I— Yeah. You should go.”

“You can come up if you want to, you know?”

He hesitates, rolls his lips together.

“I want to savor this,” he admits to you in a near whisper.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Yes. Good night.”

“Good night.”

You feel light and giddy as you walk through the door. It’s a nice and strange feeling, like you could just start floating any second.

You already can’t wait for the next day.

People are definitely weirded out by your relationship with Jungkook. Or, rather, by Jungkook’s relationship with you. You’re pretty sure most of the people who give you weird looks when you sit next to him and he wraps his arm around you, or when you walk hand in hand, wouldn’t pay attention to you if you went to class naked. But they all know who Jungkook is, and you guess it is weird to see you in conjunction with him.

They could ignore it and consider you mere part of the scenery when he ate with you, you suppose, but it is harder to do now. You’re not too fond of being the center of attention, to be honest. You don’t know how Jungkook does it.

What takes you by surprise the most is people being nice to you. That confuses you to no end, because you know for a fact they don’t care about you, not really, and you cannot fathom what they think they’re going to get out of this. You’re pretty sure there are a girl or two who are doing that to get closer to Jungkook, and some, you think, have decided to be nice to you because they think that if Jungkook likes you, you can’t be a total lost cause.

You don’t like that feeling. Not at all. You don’t like it when you’re going to class, you don’t like it during lunch, and you definitely, definitely do not like it when people rush towards you the second you get to a party.

Yeah, you’re giving Taehyung what he wanted, in the end. He said that both you and Jungkook owed him, because without him you wouldn’t be together, and you eventually gave in.

You thought it would be fine, now that you have someone to spend time with, but you understand with horror that your status has changed now. You’re not invisible anymore. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriendTM. Because of that, you spend much longer in the entrance making small talk than you would have wished to, and you’re stopped a couple of times while you’re desperately looking for your boyfriend to save you from this hell on earth.

You’re not surprised at all to find him playing beer pong with Taehyung and other guys from the team. He hasn’t gotten time to get drunk yet, so he’s quite impressive, but then again, they all are. That’s why they usually end up wasted.

The second he sees you, though, he abandons the game completely, and the smile on his face threatens to make your heart explode in your chest. Some of the guys turn around to look at you, give you a wave or a smile. Taehyung shouts a greeting.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. He doesn’t like PDA all that much, but he never misses a chance to kiss you, and the thought makes you all giddy.

“Hey. Are you, um, having fun there?”

He shrugs.

“It’s not that bad. Wanna play?” He waits for your expression to turn to one of horror as you try to refuse politely before laughing. “Just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”

You let out a relieved breath. You know you and Jungkook are very different people, and you’re doing your best to take an interest in the things he likes. You’ve been learning the rules of basketball, for example, and though you still don’t believe you get the point, you like the way his eyes shine when you say something right about a game.

But you don’t take part in any of that stuff. Okay, you stop at that field that’s on your way home from the library every now and again, but that doesn’t count. It’s just you and him then, and you feel good and relaxed. You’ve even scored a couple of times now.

“Come on, I want to grab a drink,” Jungkook said, taking your hand in his, and you follow without protesting.

It’s probably your second mistake of the night: not realizing that getting a drink with and without Jungkook are two very different ordeals. On your way there, you get roped into several conversations. Those are fine. You can’t say you enjoy them, but they’re fine, and it’s not like those people are actually talking to you anyway.

What you genuinely dislike is that, when you’re by the table with the drinks, a girl starts openly flirting with your boyfriend. It’s not subtle, either, with the way she keeps touching his arm and how she laughs at his every word.

For a while, you just stare in disbelief. You know Jungkook is oblivious to that sort of things — probably one more reason why he likes how blunt you are — but you can’t believe her. You wouldn’t necessarily blame the girl for trying, either, if she didn’t know about you. Jungkook’s quite the catch after all, and you understand liking him better than anyone else.

No, it’s the fact that she’s doing it right in front of you, while Jungkook is holding your hand. It feels so— dismissive. So insulting. She’s not exactly saying to your face that she doesn’t take you seriously, but she might as well.

You watch incredulously when she puts her hand on his arm one more time. You don’t know how you’re supposed to handle that, so you just tug on Jungkook’s hand a little awkwardly. You’re pleased by how quickly his attention snaps to you, even while the girl is in the middle of her sentence. It’s a petty sentiment, for sure, but you can’t help it.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “Is it too loud in here?”

“Kind of, but—”

“Let’s find you a quieter place.”

He forgets about the drink he wanted to get, forgets about the girl, who he abandons there unceremoniously, gently pulling you through the room. Next thing you know, he’s carefully closing the doors of the closet he’s found for the two of you behind you.

“There,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. “Better?”

You chuckle at that and, guessing for him in the half-light, you pull him towards you for a kiss. You press your body against his, pushing him against the back of the closet, and a groan forms in his throat. His hands tighten around you, sending shivers through your entire being, and you only lean into him more. You run your fingers over his chest, just to feel him tremble under your touch and he does, hissing with pleasure at the contact.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth. “Was that— was that what you had in mind?”

You shake your head, and he’s close enough to feel it.

“That girl was flirting with you,” you tell him.

“Oh. Are you sure?”

You are.

“So… are you jealous? Because that’s kind of hot.”

You laugh softly. Truth is, you really, really don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, but Jungkook actually sounds happy about the idea.

“You really didn’t notice?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“I didn’t. Does that— Did it bother you, that she was doing that?”

“Kind of,” you shrug. “What about you? You’re— cool with that?”

“If it bothers you I don’t like it,” he replies simply, one of his hand leaving your waist to grab yours and squeeze it gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

That makes you chuckle.

“How didn’t you? She would have made it barely more obvious if she had started undressing herself.”

Jungkook has an awkward laugh, and you can feel his breath on your face. He starts fidgeting, but then you press a kiss right at the corner of his lips, and he calms down, if just a little.

“It’s— You have to promise you won’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

He hesitates a second longer, as though he’s trying to judge your sincerity by looking at you — except, of course, he can barely see a thing in here. You kiss him again, following his jaw, and he finally gives in when you start making your way down his neck.

“When I’m with you, it’s like my vision narrows on you,” he says, voice low. “I know everything and everyone else is still there, but I just think about you. Sorry, it’s really stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say, shaking your head, wondering if he can feel your heart beating stupidly fast in your chest, all because his words make you feel like nothing else ever has before. “But I’m— I’m kind of boring. That can’t be fun.”

“You’re not boring,” he protests. “You listen to people, even when you don’t look like it. You always look like you have a thousand things on your mind but you always make time for your friends, and when you’re studying here, you play with your hair.” He twirls a lock of your hair around one of his fingers before releasing it, as if to demonstrate. “You’re a very, very interesting person to look at.”

The only thing you can do is stay there, frozen in his arms, after he’s said that. You may be blunt, but Jungkook is honest. Devastatingly so. His vulnerability always shatters the walls that you’ve built around yourself, and you still don’t know how to react when that happens.

So you push yourself on your tiptoes to kiss him again, except this time it’s slow and gentle and you’re trying to put everything he means to you into it. The tip of your fingers are on his cheeks, your mouth barely moving against his, soft noises filling the closet. Jungkook remains still, letting you in complete control, like he’s afraid he could break you if he moved.

“Thank you,” you whisper when you pull away from him.

“For what?” he asks, breathless.

“For being here with me tonight, and for coming with me at that first party.”

“Of course. Any time.”

He lets himself fall to the floor, taking you down with him and keeping you into his lap once he’s done that. You rest your head against his chest. You hear the noises of the party still going on outside, but Jungkook is your island of peace in the middle of the chaos.

“I think I’m going to stop basketball,” Jungkook blurts out without a warning, and you look at him, surprised.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. Really. I just— I don’t want to be doing that anymore.”

You think about it for a few seconds, then nod.

“You probably should stop, in that case.”

“People are… not going to be happy about it.”

“I’m sure Taehyung won’t be mad at you. Well, not for too long.”

He laughs softly, but his hold on you doesn’t relax, and you know that this was hard for him to even consider. You know it’s a terrifying decision to take, too.

“Thank you,” he says. “For being here with me tonight, too.”

“Any time.”

The truth is, you wouldn’t give that moment away for anything in the world, and something tells you Jungkook wouldn’t either. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect, but you don’t believe there is such a thing, and you’re happy to satisfy yourself with the imperfect.

But any moment you can spend in Jungkook is as close to perfect as can be.

“I love you,” he whispers in your ear, and you think that he might feels the same way, which almost makes you burst with happiness.

“And I love you,” you whisper back.

Not perfect, perhaps. But close enough.

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #candywrites

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor.

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you.

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall.

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud.

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though.

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself.

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for.

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts.

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch.

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours.

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast.

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing.

So, yeah.

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin.

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting.

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week.

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role.

You almost burst out laughing.

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure.

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking.

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop.

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table.

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud.

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table.

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t.

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression.

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back.

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh.

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty.

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness.

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises.

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never.

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response.

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually.

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it.

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it.

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck.

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you.

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going.

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue.

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's.

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss.

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away.

It started out with a kiss.

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it.

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face."

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over.

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace.

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his.

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name."

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip.

"I doubt it," he purred.

Yeah.

Jungkook was right.

Ah, well.

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms.

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips.

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm.

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand.

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm.

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name.

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed.

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him.

Oh, fuck.

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his.

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered.

Yours.

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk.

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin.

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd.

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick.

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far.

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl.

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin.

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat.

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do.

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled.

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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astranva · 4 years ago

Text

Falling Duet

Word Count: 2.4k

Category: Fluff but it’s so 🥺

Warning: Nothing

Request: harry dating singer!reader: he has to perform at some awards and he invites her to sing with him but no one else knows? love your writing🤧❤

Summary: You and Harry sing an unreleased version of Falling at an award show.

The lyrics used are of “Falling (other POV)” by THE cutie, Ally Naso 🤍

// masterlist //

**reposted bc tumblr is messing up the tags & nobody can view it. sigh.

It all started when a friend of yours had recorded you singing in your school’s bathroom during senior year.

7 years ago, you wouldn’t have believed it if somebody told you that you would be a 13-time Grammy nominated artist, as well as having 6 of that very award sitting on your shelf at your childhood home – one for Best Artist, and one for Album of the year.

You would have laughed even.

But it wasn’t a joke nor was it a dream you wished to never wake up from; it was as real as life could be.

You were successful in the industry and if any of your fans were asked, they would say that it was because of your immense talent and unproblematic, empathetic, kind character.

It was one of the many reasons why so many people on the internet had shipped you with a certain English man, him having been only 20 when you went viral and got signed.

A year into the industry, it was one day when you remember your Twitter notifications going crazy;

“HARRY STYLES JUST SAID HE LOVES YOUR MUSIC AND THINKS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL”

“omg pls tell us you watched 1d’s interview with jimmy kimmel”

“IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING! CAN YOU PLEASE BE TOGETHER ALREADY???”

Looking back at that memory, you remember how you were a shaking and overwhelmed mess as you had clicked on the link everybody was sending you.

The video had begun with the audience cheering as the camera was on Jimmy and the 5 men near him.

And there he sat; in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, medium-length hair looking like he had run his fingers through many times, his hands clasped as he looked at Jimmy.

“Who’s most likely to let a woman split the band?” Jimmy had asked.

They had looked at each other, not answering for a moment before Niall chimed in with a laugh as he pointed at Harry, “Harry would let his celebrity crush do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly as his bandmates agreed and laughed, slapping his hands against his thighs in feigned annoyance.

“Who is that? Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Just this talented person.” He had tried to smile his way through the question, but no one was having it.

“You know Y/N Y/L/N? She’s an amazing singer,” Louis told Jimmy.

“Y/N!” Jimmy beamed, “We had her on the show two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, he watched that.” Liam had gestured towards Harry.

Hiding his face in his hands for a moment, the audience cheered as his friends continued to laugh.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Jimmy asked Harry in a teasing manner.

Having had decided to get it over with, Harry nodded as he clasped his hands together again, “She’s very talented and beautiful.”

“Lovie, can you help me with the necklace? My nails are still drying.”

You looked up from your place on the couch, sitting in your long dress looking so beautiful that Harry had lost track of time of getting into his own suit because he was too busy giving you a photoshoot on his phone.

Standing up, you reached and clasped his necklace for him, dusting his shoulders to signal that you were done.

Turning, you were met with your boyfriend of 4 years beaming at you before he leaned to press his lips against yours.

“You look so good.” You smiled up at him, “So beautiful.”

“Have to try to catch up with how you look tonight,” he replied with a wide smile, “Nervous?”

“Not really.” You admitted.

Amusingly and completely and utterly in love, Harry tilted his head slightly, “Any reason why you’re not? You usually hate those.”

It was true. You didn’t really like award shows because of how tiresome all the process was; hair, makeup, dressing up, walking only to pause every second, the repeated questions you have been answering for years, how more judgmental the world was on nights like these.

But it was always when Harry was able to be by your side that you liked the night, and the tall man knew it, but he had always loved hearing you say it.

To feed his ego, you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Because you’ll be there.”

“Music to my ears.” He joked, shaking his head slightly.

“Just feeding that already overfed ego of yours, baby.”

“Excuse you.” He pecked your lips, “Let me add food for Evie then we can leave.”

“I’ll do it, don’t mess up your nails.” You patted his chest before moving away to attend to your cat.

The fans and reporters all had anticipated the moment of yours and boyfriend’s arrival, and the both of you knew it.

You were fairly private with your relationship. While everyone knew you were together, the both of you didn’t always post about one another but when you did, it went viral – something you and Harry, shamelessly, enjoyed.

It was why during moments like this, everyone was eager. Reporters were hungry for content, all having different intentions, but you spend enough time in the industry and you sort of begin knowing what to say and how to say it.

Harry was scheduled to perform, something everyone knew of, but it was the fact that you were joining him not on the red carpet, but on stage that they didn’t.

Getting out of the car together, the screams and flashing lights were then doubled.

Harry closed the door behind you with a polite smile to the security standing. Bending a little, he adjusted your dress’s short train for you as you looked back at it before you looked up at him.

As if they weren’t snapping pictures like crazy yet, you reached and fixed Harry’s hair at the front, his eyes looking up with a smile as you did so.

“Thanks, love.”

With that, Harry placed his arm around your waist as you walked to the first spot on the red carpet.

“When was the last time we appeared together? They’re going mad.” You whispered, looking at Harry as he smiled to the cameras.

He chuckled, looking at you, “I think we deprive them too much.”

“Let’s give them enough content to last a year.”

Nobody but the both of you knew what you meant, and it was why the flashing lights and camera shutter sounds were then tripled the moment Harry’s lips were on yours in a soft kiss.

“Can we sign stuff?” You asked a woman standing on the sides, “Can we see the fans?”

When she nodded at you, you and Harry ignored posing for a few minutes to converse and meet fans.

“I love you and Harry so much!” One fan said shakily as you signed a paper for him.

“Thank yo- Hey! I saw you in Amsterdam last year, right?” You grinned.

And that was another thing not only your fans loved about you, but Harry, too.

You were no stranger to connections. You were no stranger to making people feel seen and treating them in a way that no fan expected to be treated – a friend, and you remember friends.

“Harry, do you think Y/N will win Songwriter of the Year?” A fan asked.

Harry shrugged with a smile, “I hope so but we all know she is anyway.” He waved his hand with a joking manner, making the closest fans laugh.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll win Artist of the Year?”

“I don’t know,” he smiled, “There are so many amazing artists. I wish them all the best.”

“He’s a humble man,” you teased, patting his shoulder, “We all know he is anyway.”

You were confused as they, Harry included, laughed in shock. “What?”

“He literally has just said the same thing about you.”

You laughed, looking at Harry, “Shut up, no way!”

“The both of you have been doing that for years.” One fan commented with a grin, “It’s adorable. It’s like telepathy or something.”

“Oh yeah, we are telepathic,” Harry nodded, “It gets a little scary sometimes.”

“Heeey!” You laughed, “It’s actually helpful. One of us would be just walking at home and we’d look at each other and know that the other just means something like “feed Evie” or “take out the trash””

“This is so cute!”

“Harry, what are you performing tonight?”

“You’ll find out in a bit.” He pointed.

Shortly, you and Harry had to take more pictures and do interviews before you were escorted inside.

It was the little moments that fans also lived for; how Harry held your hand as you sat so discreetly, how the both of you chatted and giggled among one another and those around you, how Harry fist-bumped the air the moment your name was called to receive your award of Songwriter of the Year before kissing you. It was how they knew this was real – how love wasn’t something you only listen people sing about or write novels for.

It was in how Harry’s eyes didn’t move from you as you gave your speech, a wide smile on his face and eyes resembling twinkling stars for crying out loud.

It was in how you ended your speech with: “This is to the man who has inspired and pushed me forward to write every single day. I love you.”

It was in how you looked more nervous than Harry himself when his category was called before you were the first to get out of your seat with a happy “yes!” once they announced that he won.

It was in how Harry cupped your face that moment to kiss you before walking to receive his award.

It was in how you remained standing, those behind you only smiling instead of being annoyed, with your hands clutched together against your heart, tearful eyes, and the brightest smile in the room.

“You’re going to tell me this is cheesy,” Harry chuckled slightly, giving a shrug as he looked at you, “But I wouldn’t be standing here, holding this, if it weren’t for you. I love you, too.”

But then Harry was about to perform and you weren’t in your seat.

The award show had decided to make a skit of it, the host being Miley had held her microphone as she stood in the empty isle beside yours and Harry’s empty seats.

“We know Harry Styles is performing in minutes,” she said, looking at the camera with a playful smile, “But where is Y/N Y/L/N? We know, we know,” she nodded, “Probably backstage for some extra good luck but-” people laughed, causing Miley to pause and chuckle, “But seriously, guys. There’s a show and it must go on.”

“It’s going on.” Harry said from backstage into his mic before the stage went dark.

It wasn’t until piano tunes sounded that the arena grew dim, a spotlight on the piano at the center of the stage where you sat, your fingers gentle against the keys as you played the beginning notes of Falling.

“I'm in my bed,

And you're not here

And there's no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands.” Harry sang as he came on stage, holding the mic in his hand before taking a seat beside you.

Everyone had expected him to sing the next verse, but it wasn’t his voice that they then heard.

“I'm in my bed

Instead of yours

Cried to sleep turned off all of lights and locked all of the doors.” You sang, eyes on the piano keys.

“Forget what I said

It's not what I meant

And I can't take it back

I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes were on you, body turned slightly towards you as he felt like the both of you were in your living room in front of your white piano.

“I replay what you said

Don’t know if it’s true

Left with two broken hearts and there’s nothing that we could undo.” You sang, closing your eyes as you got ready for the chorus.

“What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What am I now? What am I now?

Don’t want to cry ‘cause I can’t stand the sound

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

The both of you sang together, your voice being softer and quieter than Harry’s.

“What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

“What if I'm down? What if I'm out?

What if you’re someone I can’t live without?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling.”

It was a version nobody had heard before, and it was why everyone was quiet, the only sound coming from you, Harry, and your lone instrument.

It was something you had written together following a rough patch of your relationship, and everyone knew that it was more personal with the way the both of you sang.

When his eyes weren’t closed, Harry sang as he looked at you, and he knew that performing this song meant more to the both of you than anyone could imagine. One look at your face and Harry knew you were reliving the night of when the both of you had written this; eyes a little red from crying, bodies hot, Harry wearing a hoodie of yours while you sat in your underwear with his purple fluffy robe on.

“Can I do this alone without ever needing you again?”

“And I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.”

You both sang the bridge together, yours being shorter than Harry’s note as you carried a softer tone, closing your eyes as you played the piano, feeling your throat close up before gulping.

He knew.

It was why the final chorus was sung softer and quieter, Harry’s forehead resting against your temple for a moment as the both of you sang.

“I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry finished, putting his mic down as he stared at you with a small smile, watching you in your element as you played.

Managing to look at him as you played single soft notes, you sang, “I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.”

You played the end single notes, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and a bashful smile.

It was like you were unaware to the erupted cheer and round of applause, you threw your arms around Harry, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

Crying from the overwhelming emotions, you were thankful your mascara was waterproof. You called it.

“I love you,” Harry whispered in your ear, “I love you so much.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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moonbeamwritings · 4 years ago

Text

of salt water and loving gazes

a sequel to “of salt water and curious gazes”

Summary: Making new friends wasn’t necessarily odd, not by any stretch, but making friends with the merman living off the coast by your new home was markedly more so. As you stared at Jotaro beneath the light of the moon, rocking along the surface of the sea, you realized your feelings for your new companion were far beyond friendship.

A/N: Thank you for all of the kind words on the other part and happy Mermay everybody! ⭐

Your meetings with the mysterious merman quickly became a permanent fixture in your routine. Almost every night, with your belly full of whatever you’d scarfed down for dinner, you would tuck yourself into warm, soft clothes and slip on your sandals to begin the trek down to the beach, guided only by the light of the moon.

It was all so weird - befriending a merman was a difficult thing to process after all, but it hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. You’d touched his tail and he hadn’t tried to drown you, or at least not yet. He was much larger than you were and if he’d wanted to kill you with those sharp teeth or drag you to the murky depths below, he would’ve done it already, you rationalized one evening as you shook the sand from your shoes. Despite his hulking, intimidating form, you felt safe by Jotaro’s side, like he was picked out by some higher power to be your welcomed, albeit unlikely, companion.

And you certainly weren’t falling for the beautiful blue of his eyes or the tiny quirk of his lips when you complained about touching squishy seaweed with your toes. Nope, definitely not.

“Come on,” he coaxed gently, holding two webbed hands out to you with an impassive look, “It’ll be fun.”

“How do I know this isn’t some ploy for you to finally drown me? Send me down to the bottom of the ocean to rot?” You asked jokingly, eyeing him with suspicion.

For some reason, it seemed that Jotaro had deemed this evening to be the perfect time to take you swimming, claiming that the moon was in just the right spot, illuminating the water just enough that it wasn’t entirely black. He knew you hated that.

Your questions sent a laugh bubbling from his chest, dipping his body back below the surface as if to highlight just how harmless he was, to hide his massive shoulders beneath the waves, “If I really wanted to drown you, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now?”

He had a good point, but you weren’t about to let this joke die.

“Mmm,” you feigned thought, tapping a finger against your chin, “I don’t know, Jotaro. Maybe you’ve lulled me into a false sense of security. For all I know, you could’ve tricked me into being your friend precisely to find a new victim.”

A look you’d never seen before crossed his face, his eyebrows scrunching in concern and his lips frowning for a fraction of a second before returning to his usual indifference. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. He had to know that you were only teasing, right? Maybe you’d taken it just a step too far.

“I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that.” His response was short, resolute as he raised his arms from the water, holding his hands out once again.

You sighed, regret bubbling in your stomach. What a stupid comment to make to a new friend. “I know.”

A beat of silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook some of the water from his hands, seemingly impatient as he waited for you to decide what to do. “It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean it like that. You know, you don’t actually have to come out here if you don’t want to.”

You looked between him and the moon, admiring the way he seemed to glow where he swam. The water did look inviting and Jotaro even more so, lingering there with his arms outstretched. Clothes could always be washed, you thought.

Stripping off your sweater to reveal your t-shirt and shorts, you nodded. “I want to.”

“You sure?”

Without a second thought, you agreed, reaching your hands out to grip at his shoulders before you slipped into the water. He kept his own securely at your waist, ensuring that you wouldn’t drift off.

“Not so bad, right?” He asked, chuckling a bit before using his tail to guide you both through the water, setting a leisurely place over the waves.

“It’s freezing.” Came your immediate, disgruntled response, marked by slight tremors in your tone as your teeth chattered. You kicked your own feet in an attempt to warm your body, but it was as if your bones had already frozen solid.

“Just stay close to me,” Jotaro assured. “Or,” he continued, beginning a half-hearted descent beneath the waves, “I could dunk you? That’d warm you up pretty quick.”

You clung to him even tighter, scrambling to move up his body as he shifted, “Don’t you dare.”

You felt his chest rumble with a laugh, adjusting your position so more of your body was above the surface again and as it continued, you couldn’t help but join him, falling into your own laugh as you swam. He really did have a cute laugh, you thought, and it was nice to see him smile so openly. Damn him and his perfect, well, everything.

Perfection aside, being able to spend time with him in his element, drifting in the sea as the smell of salt invaded your nose, was something you wouldn’t trade for anything. There was a quiet intimacy to the moment that you couldn’t quite place, but you allowed it to settle, warming your heart and cheeks in the process.

As silence fell between the two of you, you felt your bones begin to loosen, skin warming thanks to his body heat. You continued to warm up as you felt his chest press flush against yours, so close that the two of you were nearly nose to nose. Lost in his eyes, you watched as his gaze flickered from yours to your lips and back again as he leaned just a fraction of an inch closer. It was as if you were both teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting with bated breath for something to just... happen. The moment was broken by the sound of him clearing his throat, pulling away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Had you been imagining it or had he almost kissed you? Why hadn’t he?

Heat rushed to your face as questions swirled in your mind, a wild storm of what-ifs and missed chances. An arm’s length away, you began to tread water on your own, needing a minute to just breathe.

The strange new energy dissipated quickly, Jotaro diving into a story about the adventure he and his friends had gone on in your absence during the day to distract you, or maybe himself - you couldn’t tell.

The merperson lifestyle always a little lost on you, but you did your best to follow along. Surely, he had no idea what you meant by a cell phone or what grocery stores were really like, so you could cut him some slack as he went into detail about stands - whatever those were - and the intricacies of sea urchin collecting.

You wondered what he was really like beneath the waves as he traveled with his friends. Was he less talkative? Or more? What did his language sound like to those who were fluent in it? Did they think he was crazy for speaking to you? Did they even know?

A splash of water landed right against your face, salt water burning your eyes as it hit you.

Bastard.

“Hey, are you even listening?” He accused, teasing smile resting just about the water’s surface.

“Of course, I am,” you fired back with a smile of your own. “Now tell me everything.”

You and Jotaro continued to talk and idly swim as the moon rose higher in the sky, cold limbs long since forgotten in favor of floating your way along the waves as you chatted with him. It was as easy as breathing, being beside him and feeling the sloshing of the sea beneath your shoulders.

Moments like these reminded you of your grandmother and the gentle words that lingered in your head whenever you took your seat at the end of the jetty. Jotaro, and the great expanse of the ocean itself, left you feeling lighter with each visit, like your problems were just a single drop and nothing more. Spending time with Jotaro was easy and you weren’t sure if you could ever find the words to tell him.

“This is nice.” You spoke, tipping back to allow the water to lap at your hair as you took in the pale light of the moon.

Jotaro’s eyes hadn’t left your form for what felt like an eternity, hypnotized by the way you moved, by the goosebumps across the expanse of your skin - by you. With the near-kiss weighing heavily on his mind, he finally turned away, dipping below the surface of the water to collect his thoughts.

You had accepted him, so wholeheartedly that it nearly made him dizzy. With a single, tentative smile and a brush of your fingers against his fluke on that first fateful night, you’d hooked him in and he knew he’d ever be able to stop coming back. Jotaro also knew though, just how dangerous it was to spend so much time around humans, but he simply couldn’t help it. You were like a shimmering pearl, a precious gem that he couldn’t bear to lose.

And now, with your body closer to his than it had ever been before, a realization came racing to the forefront of his mind. His feelings for you went beyond friendship, beyond harmless nights spent splashing water or trading seashells.

Jotaro loved you.

Righting yourself to turn back towards Jotaro, you panicked. The horizon around you was empty, save for docked boats and a lighthouse far off in the distance.

“Jotaro?” You called frantically, spinning around in the water in a desperate search for the dark-haired merman, “Jotaro!?”

Your muffled calls sent him reeling back to the surface, pulling one of your hands into his own. He watched as you jumped about a mile in the air before you sprung at him, latching your arms around his neck. “I’m right here.”

“God,” you huffed, breath ghosting over his ear, “Don’t do that. Leaving me out here all alone like a worm on a hook, flailing around like an idiot.”

“Sorry.”

Without thinking, his arms wrapped around your waist, rubbing a reassuring hand along the small of your back. You relished in the feeling for a few moments before leaning back, face mere inches from his own, noses and lips nearly touching.

He was breathtaking like this; hair dripping with water that caught the light of the stars just so, body covered in droplets that shone like crystals. His eyes were rendered even more beautiful with your proximity, a deep turquoise littered with little flecks of blue.

You could just lean in and-

His lips crossed the distance with ease, pressing up against yours as if he had been reading your mind. The kiss was sweet, clumsy and a little too salty, but still managing to send your heart stuttering in your chest all the same. Jotaro supported you both, keeping you afloat with his tail as your arms trailed back around his neck, fingers threading in his wet hair. He kept his hands on your back, clutching your shirt in each fist.

Feeling breathless, you pulled away to rest your forehead against his, a grin beginning to spread across your face. Jotaro swore he’d never seen you so happy. The twinkle in your eyes had him tugging at your waist, twirling you around in the water before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was just as clumsy as the first, a goofy mess of teeth and lips as you struggled to suppress your smiles.

With one final peck, Jotaro pulled away to take a breath, revealing one of the cutest blushes you’ve ever seen. You rushed to bring your hands to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms as if to savor the moment, to make his flush last that much longer.

“I’m in love with you.” His words came out in a flurry, a sharp contrast to his low, unwavering tone. He was nervous. As if now, after everything, his admission would scare you away.

“I’m in love with you too.” You replied, rubbing a thumb along his smooth, wet cheekbone.

“This doesn’t...” he cut himself off to gesture vaguely at his tail with his eyes, “it doesn’t bother you?”

“I wouldn’t be here right now if it did, right?”

He smiled at that, bringing his lips down to connect with your hairline. “Mm, I guess not. Still think I’m gonna drown you?”

The question caught you off guard, a light giggle escaping your throat as you pressed even closer to his chest. You could feel his heartbeat.

“At this point,” you began, running your hands down to hold his shoulders as your eyes met his own, “I wouldn’t really mind if you did.”

Jotaro started to move with the waves again, casually floating on his back with you clinging onto him. “You have to be careful, you know. I am a vicious beast after all.”

You thought about the kisses you’d just shared, about the way he’d held you as if you would break, about his bashful smile and beautiful laugh and that adorable blush.

“Yeah, sure thing, tough guy.”

Your grandmother had always told you that the ocean soothed the soul, acting as a quiet reprieve from the hustle and bustle of your daily life - an escape. Here, in the arms of one of the ocean’s most beautiful creations, you were certain she was right.

#jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro kujo imagine #jotaro x reader #jotaro imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine #merperson au #mermaid au #mermay 2021

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lxvislxdy · 4 years ago

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Shotgun Kisses pt.2 | Bakugou K.

Links: Bakugou x stoner!reader au & Shotgun Kisses (Read these first!!)

Notes: Firstly, I want to thank you all for the positive feedback my work has been receiving! I’m extremely thankful for ya’ll!! I also want to apologize for the delay in my posting; I’ve been traveling this week, and on top of that, dealing with the gas shortage on the east coast (it’s been HELL). But hopefully things will start picking up again soon! As always, my requests are open, so feel free to send in your requests or questions!

Summary: After apologizing to you, Bakugou is still struggling to get over his mistrust of your coworker, Shinsou. When you invite Shinsou to hang with everyone, Bakugou thinks it will be his final straw. That is, until Shinsou makes a move on someone unexpected. And suddenly, everything makes much more sense, and Bakugou looks completely oblivious.

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warning(s): 18+!! drug use, language (if you are underage, this fic is not for you!)

Bakugou was trying.

He really, really was.

He trusted you, and he hated fighting with you (especially when it was his fault, and he had to apologize), but damnit, that purple haired bastard wasn’t making it easy on him. Still, Bakugou was making an effort, and that meant he was visiting you at work, even though Shinsou was there, too.

“Hello,” Shinsou drawled, a lazy, but definitely teasing, grin spread across his lips. He was leaned up against the counter, half of his purple hair tied back in a knot at the back of his head. “How can I help you?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath in like Kirishima had taught him. His hands were wound into fists, shoved into his jacket pockets. “Just my regular.”

Shinsou hummed in response, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Y/n! Your loverboy is here!”

Bakugou grit his teeth, willing himself not to snap back at him. Technically, he wasn’t wrong. But he hated the teasing lilt to the other man’s voice.

As per usual, his anger melted away - mostly - when you popped your head around the corner, from the storage room, smiling brightly. “’Suki!”

As much as Bakugou hated your job, you did look cute in your apron, and he was admittedly fond of the free coffee.

You bounced over to him, definitely hyped up on too much caffeine, and wrapped your arms around him. “Hi.” You said, looking up at him.

He squeezed you against him, pulling you in for a kiss, to your surprise. Normally, Bakugou was hesitant when it came to PDA. Of course, the cafe was almost empty, and it wasn’t much of a secret that Bakugou was turning up the heat in front of Shinsou.

“You want your usual?” You ask sweetly, when he pulls away, dopey grin on your face.

Shinsou, who had slipped away during the kiss, calls over his shoulder, “Already on it!”

“Try not to spit in it.” Bakugou says, lowly.

Shinsou lets out a low chuckle, “I’ll try to contain myself.”

Apparently, this banter is friendly enough, because you laugh along with him.

“You mind if I take my break now, ‘Toshi?”

Bakugou swallows down the burst of jealousy at the nickname, fists tightening in his pocket.

“Yeah, no problem,” Shinsou tells you, as he sets the coffee down on the counter. “There you go. One coffee, hazelnut cream, no sugar. Extra bitter, just like you.”

Bakugou sneers at him, snatching the coffee from the counter and grabbing your hand to pull you along behind him. The two of you end up in the alleyway behind the shop, sneaking through the ‘employees only’ door. Bakugou sips the coffee, wishing it wasn’t so good. But damn, if Shinsou didn’t know his coffee. As far as Bakugou was concerned, that was the only thing the guy was good at. (Of course, he didn’t really know him that well, at all).

“You’re very broody today.” You say softly, looking over at him from where you leaned against the brick wall. “Something on your mind?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, sipping his coffee again. “M’fine. Just... tired, that’s all.”

You hum, fumbling with one of your bracelets. You gaze up at him, grinning, “Do I need to call Kirishima to get it out of you?”

“Tch,” He scoffed, marching over to where you stood and leaning down over you. “Smartass.”

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You both taste like coffee, and Bakugou recognizes the faint, bitter taste of marijuana on your tongue too. He pulls away, raising a brow.

“What, rolling up before work, you delinquent?”

You giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully, though it’s not enough to move him away from you. “Maybe. Gonna rat me out?”

“Hm,” His lips barely brush against yours, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m sure you could convince me not to.”

“Yeah? That easy, hm?” You say, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls just out of your reach. You pout, and he laughs lowly.

“I never said it would be easy.” He answers, smirking.

You feel your breath hitch again, and his lips are back on yours.

“Mm, Kats, love you, but I need to get back to work.” You mumble in between kisses.

Bakugou nips your bottom lip, but concedes, pulling away with a sigh. “Sure I can’t keep you occupied just a little while longer?”

“And people say I’m the bad influence.” You tease, laughing. “Sorry, babe. Can’t. Besides, I know you’re supposed to be getting lunch with the guys, and I’m not gonna be responsible for making you late.”

“Screw ‘em.” He says, planting another kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You smile up at him, shaking your head. “What am I gonna do with you, Bakgou Katsuki?”

“Keep me, I hope.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but it came out much more serious than he’d meant. Thankfully, you don’t press him on it.

“Yeah, and what’s in it for me?” You tease, poking his stomach. You stretch up on your tiptoes to place another kiss on his jaw, voice softer than before, “I’m here till you don’t want me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou kisses the top of your head, “That’ll never happen.”

You turn to go back inside, stopping in the doorway to look back at him. “You coming to Sero and Denki’s tonight?”

“We’ll see.” Bakugou grunts.

“Mhm,” You grin. “I’ll see you there, then. Bye, Kats!”

...

By the time Bakugou shows up, he’s the last one there. Even Jirou, infamous for showing up fashionably late to their hangouts, was already inside, sitting with you and Mina on the floor. The three of you were deep in conversation, clearly already more than buzzed - your giggles and half-lidded eyes gave you away.

Bakugou felt the tug of a smile on his lips, watching you. He was glad the day was over. Finally, he could just relax.

And thats when he saw him.

Shinsou Hitoshi was sitting on the couch, leaning over a wide-eyed Denki to get the lighter off the table.

Bakugou tried. He was trying. But even still, his hands shook with anger.

Kirishima met his gaze, shaking his head, and he didn’t have to speak out loud for Bakugou to hear his usual, ‘Breathe, man. Everything’s fine. Deep breaths. It’s not worth it.’

“Bakugou!” Mina shrieked, “You made it! I told you he’d be here, Sero, you owe me $5!”

Bakugou scowled. “You bet against me?”

Sero shrugs sheepishly.

You grin up at him from your spot by the girls, and Bakugou quickly crossed the room to sit by your side, ignoring the intruder on the couch. As he took a seat, he pulled you close to lean against his shoulder, and you instinctively reached for his hand without stopping your conversation.

“C’mon, Jirou, you should invite Yoamomo next time!” You were saying, “How will you ever get to know her if you don’t talk to her?”

Jirou, uncharacteristically flustered, shook her head. “No way. Absolutely not. Momo doesn’t seem the type to... ya know, any of this. We aren’t really her crowd.”

“So? She likes you doesn’t she?” Mina offers, puffing smoke.

Jirou’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink, and she slouches down more. “I dunno... Pass it here, Min.”

“I’m sure we could behave ourselves enough for a night.” You tease, grinning, “We could have a movie night! Totally sober, if that’s what you’re worried about, Kyo.”

A loud groan cuts into their conversation, from across the room, “Yeah, speak for yourself.” Denki says.

“As if you could get through a movie night totally sober, y/n.” Sero snickers.

“Hey!” You shout back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“He might have a point, man,” Shinsou cuts in. He’d been so quiet, Bakugou had almost forgotten he was there. Of course, his luck ran out. “Y/n can’t even make it through a shift sober.”

The room erupts into laughter, though Bakugou stays quiet, rolling his eyes.

“Not true!” You say, blushing as you lower your voice, “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

Shinsou’s laugh is apparently contagious, as he says, “Are you kidding?!” He breaks into an eerily accurate impression of you, “Hey, man, what can I get for ya? Aw, totally, nice choice! Have you tried the muffins, man, they’re sooo good.”

You burry your head in your hands as everyone joins in on the joke, leaning back into Bakugou to hide. “Fuck you, dude! Fuck you!”

“Holy shit!” Denki and Sero are gasping for breath, “How are you so good at that, man?”

Shinsou grins slyly, reminding Bakugou of the cheshire cat (another reason he doesn’t trust the asshole). “Hey, a man can’t give away all his secrets, huh?”

Bakugou tightens his hold around your waist, mouth downturned into an unhappy scowl.

“I think a movie night would be nice,” Kirishima changes the subject, and Bakugou sends him a small smile in thanks. “I’m sure we’d all like to meet Momo, and if she’s as sweet as you say she is, she’ll totally go for it!”

“Yeah,” Mina says, wrapping an arm lazily around Jirou, “Besides, you’re a total catch, babe! She’ll love you!”

“Thanks guys,” Jirou responds quietly, passing the joint to you. “I’ll think about it.”

You take a few drags, offering to Bakugou, who shakes his head. You don’t push it, blowing the smoke away from the two of you.

“Man, and here I was, thinking you might finally relax some, Bakugou.” Shinsou comments.

Across the room, Denki has slouched against the other man’s shoulder, his feet propped up in Sero’s lap.

“The fuck did you say?” Bakugou snaps, glaring.

Shinsou chuckles, “Relax, dude, I’m kidding.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou growls, snatching the joint from between your fingers. “Fucking whatever.”

He takes a long drag, face red as he resists the urge to cough out of spite. Shinsou raises a brow, mouth twitching into a smirk. His fingers are in Denki’s hair, scratching lightly at his head, and the blonde looks like he could fall asleep any minute, a sleepy smile on his face. Bakugou feels an odd surge of jealousy, and frustration. These are his friends. You’re his girl. What the fuck is this guy playing at?

As Bakugou goes quiet, eyebrows furrowed and face drawn into a fierce scowl, and shoot Shinsou a look. He sighs, rolling his eyes, but silently agrees to lay off.

“You okay?” You ask, leaning back and placing a light kiss on Bakugou’s jaw.

He yanks you into his lap with a huff, pouting.

It takes everything in you not to giggle at him when he’s like this (it’s cute, okay?) but you knew that would only irritate him more.

“’Suki.” You coo, quiet so no one else can hear you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He mutters, frown deepening.

“But-”

“I said it’s nothing, y/n.”

You sigh, giving up and leaning back against his chest. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Besides, you aren’t stupid. You know he’s unhappy because Shinsou is here. And, by all means, Shinsou is being an asshole. But he’s your friend, and a really good friend (only a friend). You just want the two to get along, and you want to show your boyfriend that he has nothing to worry about! But, as per usual, both boys are being... difficult, to say the least.

After a few minutes it becomes clear that Bakugou’s mood isn’t going to improve, so you go back to your conversation with Mina and Jirou, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Eventually, he starts to relax, but remains quiet. He’s too stubborn to admit that you know how to calm him down, after all. And, besides, he can’t risk the guys telling him he’s going ‘soft’ (his words, not yours).

As your high reaches its peak, you forget about the exchange almost completely. You’ve moved to lay your head in Bakugou’s lap, staring up at him. You reach for his hand, bringing it to rest on your head and he rolls his eyes, fingers gently scratching your scalp. You smile up at him lazily, blowing him a kiss.

With his hands in your hair, you feel yourself begin to drift off, the conversations around you fading into a low buzz in the background.

Suddenly, Bakugou’s hands stop.

“Kats,” You whine, one eye cracking open to see what was wrong.

Bakugou’s mouth is agape, brows raised, and face red.

“Kats? You okay?”

He doesn’t answer, and you follow his gaze to the couch, where Denki has climbed into Shinsou’s lap. The blonde’s fingers are threaded into his hair, Shinsou’s firmly gripping his waist, and they’re kissing. You sit up, a laugh bubbling in your throat.

“See, bubs?” You plant a small, teasing kiss to his lips. “Told ya you have nothing to worry about.”

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pedropascalssimp · 4 years ago

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Grumpy

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: boba is a grumpy man but we love him... Also for a real summary: the reader is annoying, always talking and being a goofy person. And boba only tolerates it because he loves her.

Warnings: slight language I think? Slight jealous boba, he's also a bit insecure in this one. Fluff, FLUFF.

Pic credit to @xxrosaaa29xx I'm using your pic for scientific research purposes 👀

Also dala means "woman" in mando'a incase whoever reads this didn't know and found themselves in confusion like I do most times....

I know I also said I'd write for din more but, c'mon! My bestest friend ever here inspired me to write this!

Thank you my amazingly beautiful friend @friendscall-me-mom this was spurred on because you 👀

Boba was a busy man, he couldn't seem to hold still for more then two minutes. He always had something keeping him busy or somewhere to be, but that's the way he liked it. So ever since boba claimed the throne that once belonged to jabba the hut and later jabba's companion Bib Fortuna, boba found himself almost never leaving the palace, it was relaxing yes, a nice relaxing thing actually, but also a little too... Uneventful for his liking. So after leaving Fennec in charge over the palace, someone he knew he could trust, he brought you along with him to venture away from tatooine to accompany him on his first bounty hunt in almost six years.

When he had gruffly asked you to join him, it left you baffled. You thought he'd enjoy a nice time away from you considering he always spoke of how annoying you are, he always ignores you are tries putting a distance between the two of you. In your eye's he hated you, his actions displaying such. But in all honesty? Boba fett found himself attracted to you, his brown eyes always glued to you when you walked into the room, gaze unable to leave your figure for a second. His heart always doing the annoying flip it does whenever he hears your laugh or catches a glimpse of that beautiful smile adorning your face.

He pushed you away because he didn't know how to love you like you deserved, you was always so... Happy, bubbly personality and jokes putting a smile on everyone's face. He was afraid that if he let you love him, his usual grumpy and hardened personality would dent your chirpy one. So... He pushed you away.

But you didn't ever see the adoring looks he gave you, or the faint tug of his lips when you told a joke. All of those things went unnoticed by you, partly because the helmet he wore and the fact he always hid his emotions well. Something you found infuriating. But despite that, and his constant grumpy behavior towards you, you found yourself intrigued by the man, you couldn’t deny he was a handsome man. Dark eye's that seemed to sparkle whenever the light hit them just right. And although his words was always short, sometimes even harsh on the more stressful days for him, you found yourself hanging on to every word he spoke, his voice intoxicating, beautiful. You scolded yourself many times for falling in love with boba fett, but then again how could you not have? When he showed you rare moments of kindness - especially when you had both met on tython, you having permission from your friend din to stay with boba. Because din saw how you looked at boba, he knew you was in love with him.

But damn was boba oblivious, or either he knew you was smitten with him and just hid it well. Whatever the case, you was slightly hurt by the fact he always found a way to either distance himself from you are push you away.

Slave I was quite, boba sitting in the co-pilot seat while you let your mind roam freely to dwelling thoughts. But you let out a little laugh, the sound drawing boba's attention as he tilts his helmet in your direction.

"what's funny dala?" he asked, speaking mando'a, a nickname you've learnt well. He often enjoyed using it in a mocking manner though, it usually rolled off his tongue whenever he was annoyed or like said, mocking someone, aka, you.

You shrug, a grin on your lips. The reason you was amused though, was today's previous events played on your mind. You and boba had both stopped by a cantina on Batuu, only stopping their for fual and a bite to eat. Because you wouldn't shut up until boba finally gave in and took you somewhere to eat. And as you was both enjoying a meal, boba choosing a nice empty booth in the dark corner as he took his helmet off. A man had been flirting with you, it was harmless really, a few compliments on your beauty and a few hints of how the man genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Although he seemed nice you didn't really want to speak with him, so let him down easy.

But boba was, for some odd reason to you, pissed off with the man's constant talking. He didn't like how his eyes roamed your body, didn't like how you indulged him, and he really didn't like how he talked to you, using those flirty little comments and jokes, coaxing a laugh or two from you. Boba hated it, he was fuming. So without hesitation, boba threatened the poor man's life with a cold hard stare causing the man to flee the whole planet with fright.

Although you was slightly mad at boba in the moment, you found it hilarious now. Letting out another laugh you try and cover your mouth, stifling the laugh. "what is it?" he seemed genuinely curious but his words came out bitter.

"you scared that poor man to death boba... He literally left Batuu because of one simple glare and a few threats!" you laughed, grabbing your side because of how hard you was laughing now. "di - did you see his face!" you wheeze out through laughter, "he almost pissed his pants!" you shake your head and your laughter dies down.

Boba, unknowingly to you, had a smile on his face, Almost prideful. He focuses his attention on you now, loving the sight of your wide smile now. He had thought he angered you with how he scared the man off, he thought you was actually attracted to the other man. But seeing you laughing about the situation put him at ease, you wasn't mad at him.

"I thought he was bothering you, he was surely bothering me with his jabbering" boba tried to brush the topic off. He felt slightly annoyed he was jealous over the fact the man had made you smile and laugh. And the man was younger, his face not as scarred or aged as boba's. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a little insecure when around you, why would you want him when the galaxy had so much more out there for you?

"oh he wasn't jabbering, he was being nice... But you scared him enough to flee the planet" you giggle, amused by the situation.

He only grunts in response, one of many signs he was in a grumby mood. You flicker your eyes down at his side, the side his beskar failed to cover.... Grinning you reach over and poke him.

"stop being grumpy" you muttered playfully, his visor snapping in your direction before falling down to look at where you kept your hand, ready to puke him again.

"I'm not grumpy princess" he harshly grunts out while taking your hand in his and throwing your hand back into your lap. "don't touch me..." he muttered. He may have came off as angry, but under the helmet he was flustered, your touch sending a delightful warmth spreading all over him, turning his face red.

Your smile filters for a moment, thinking you may have infuriated him. The sight makes him guilty until he sees you grin again. "you have to be ticklish, everyone is. I'm now making it my goal to find you're ticklish spot!" you declare cheerfully. Boba shaking his head.

"I'm not ticklish. let me be dala" he spoke while putting the ship on autopilot as he went into hyperspace. Standing up he leaves the cockpit, you following him. He walks into the cargo area, plopping down on a crate as he takes his helmet off, usual stoic expression on his face as he cleans his helmet off. A act he does out of boredom you've grown to discover.

"not ticklish eh? So you won't mind..." you sit beside him making him go stiff visibly, his hand freezing as he wiped the visor off. "this!" you slither your hand on the spot between his neck and shoulder and start tickling, but he does even smile, much to your dismay.

"please stop" he deadpanned. And you do so with a huff. "I'm not ticklish so stop" he continued wiping his helmet off.

You sigh deeply and cross your arms. "I've never seen you smile nor laugh, If I can't find you're ticklish spot then I'll tell you joke's!" you state, his face slowly morphs into one of annoyance.

"please don't... I left tatooine for two reasons: peace and to be able stretch my legs for a bit" he said while looking up at you, his dark eye's capturing you for a bit.

"then why did you invite me to join you? You know I annoy you with my presence" you say, arms crossed.

He invited you because he knew how men eyed you on tatooine with hunger, with a undeniable look of lust. He hated it, wanted to rip all their eyes out for doing so. He knew that if he left any man could waltz up to you and flirt their way into your heart. So he brought you with him because he'd be damned if he left you on tatooine, he never wanted to leave your side.

"because I knew that if I didn't you wouldn't shut up, I've heard how you wanted to leave the place for a little vacation as you put it and I had already planned on hunting so... I invited you" he muttered, blowing on the visor to ensure its clean before sitting it aside, now cleaning his blaster. It wasn't a lie, he heard you telling Fennec how you wished to escape the sands and scorching hot heat for at least a little bit.

Your heart swells at his words, to anyone it was nothing. to you... It was his way of showing affection. He knew you wanted a vacation so he took you with him, if you didn't know any better you'd say he even planned this hunt because that. But that was wishful thinking.

"did I ever I tell you the story of how Mando got zapped by those jawa's?" you snicker, knowing that would at least make him smile. But he nods, confirming you have.

"more then once mesh'la" he didn't mean to let that one simple word slip from his mouth, but it did, and from the beaming smile and small blush on your cheeks, he knew you knew what it meant.

"oh you think I'm beautiful now?" you tease, seeing the way he tensed up whenever the word rolled off his tongue, you knew that you turning it into playful banter would ease away whatever it was that made him tense like that.

"shut up girl" he grumbled while standing up, you doing so making him huff. "don't follow me around like a damn lost child!" he snaps, taking you aback slightly. But you shrug his words off, although they did hit pretty hard.

He saw that and grumbled something before continuing whatever it was he was doing. "what if I don't wanna stop!" you say with a giggle, following him to the poor excuse for a bed he used.

"then I guess I'm gonna have to face the fact you're goal and life purpose is to annoy me" he said, sitting on the bed, slowly stripping the beskar off piece by piece. You could only watch as his soft shirt he wore under it exposed the softness of him, his tummy practically begging for you to reach out and tickle it -

You grin at the thought his tummy would be ticklish, it was a mischievous glint in your eye that alarmed him. "oh no" he muttered as you grin at him and flop down beside him on his bed.

"admit it boba, you enjoy my company" you sigh with a big smile, his scoff only making you giggle. He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he wanted to say was forgotten the moment you tickle his belly, soft and adorable like you always thought it would be.

His eye's widen as he finds himself laughing, a smile on his face. He falls backwards on the bed as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you continue tickling his belly as your heart flutters at the sight of his smile and sound of his gruff laughter.

"you do have a ticklish spot!" you laugh, his large hands resting on your hips as he flips you over, now he was hovering over you.

"you are relentless" he mused, his smile now gone and replaced back with his grumpy expression. "don't ever do that again mesh'la" he grumbled. But he couldn't deny how being so Close to you makes his desire to kiss you grow strong. Once he catches

"oh Stop being grumpy, it’s lame." you tease him, cheeky smile. He shakes his with a huff.

"You're an idiot" he retorts while rolling off of you, much to your dismay. He sits up and back in the position he was once in. You sit up beside him.

"but you love me" you said it before you could register what exactly fell off your tongue. Boba seemed to freeze beside you, making fear settle deep within your very core. "I - I didn't mean - like -

Your stuttering was shushed by the smile boba gave you, it was soft, didn't quite reach his eye's but it was still genuine. "unfortunately dala I do..." he didn't look you in the eye, instead, his cheeks starting to turn a little pink as he fiddle with a piece of his armor he picked up off the floor, he didn't want to see you possibly reject him, he didn't want to see your face when you laugh at him for confessing such a thing.

But maker was he surprised when you scooted closer and gently cup his cheek making him look at you, the genuine soft smile on your face different from the cheeky ones or mischievous ones you'd always offer the bounty hunter.

"do you mean it?" you ask him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes search his dark brown ones for the answer, and you saw it, swimming amongst the endless brown hues of his eyes. A truthful, raw emotion besides being angry he showed you, displaying it before your very eyes. Love, adoration, truth....

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you, although I'll have to admit I thought you and you're mandalorian friend was already a couple. That's why I hesitated to talk to you so much" boba confessed, a smile beaming on your face as your eyes glow with joy. Your thumb subconsciously stroking one of many scars on his face.

"likewise, I've never seen someone quite as handsome as you before, nor as intriguing" his snort of amusement made you give him a confused look, wondering what he found funny.

"oh so you find me intriguing?" he smugly replied causing you to roll your eye's. Your free hand that wasn't holding his face, fell to his soft tummy. He tenses up and gives you a warning look. "don't" he muttered.

But you only grin at him, "why not? If you want to laugh at me I'll give you something to laugh at" you slip a hand up his shirt, his warm skin soft. Your touch had his heart doing a flip, if not for the fact he knew you planned on tickling him, he'd find this soothing.

"I wasn't laughing, just simply asking a question"

"after you let out a little laugh" you point out, he shakes his head ready to protest, but you had already begun your assault, tickling his belly. Practically in his lap again as he fell back.

You both knew that if he really wanted, he could stop you easily. But hearing his thunderous laugh echo across the ship and seeing his beautiful smile? It made you beam with happiness, a sight boba couldn't get enough of.

Needless to say, after the hunt you and boba has shared a kiss, slept in his arms every night as he claimed you as his. When you both arrived back on tatooine and into the palace you called home, Fennec had seen how boba had became extra protective over you, seeing how he couldn't seem to leave your side. She knew the hunt brought you both together, it was a relief, now she didn't have to see you both dance around your feelings for each other.

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#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #baby yoda #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #boba fett x y/n #boba fett imagine #boba fett x reader #boba fett

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

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Hidden Truths

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader (Platonic)

Summary: Can you write something where the reader learns she was kidnapped at birth and Hardin helps her through the trauma? Anonymous

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, trauma, mentions of miscarriage. Let me know if there are more.

A/N For this one Hardin stayed in England with his mom. Also one of the hardest concepts I’ve ever tried writing.

It starts out as a joke. You just want to know more about your ancestors and there’s this trend going around that you send in your DNA and it tells you all about where you come from. The 5% Ireland doesn’t surprise you. Frankly, you expected that part. It’s the 80% Canadian that surprises you. Your family hasn’t left England for centuries. You did a family tree as a school project in 3rd grade and you know your roots are English and somewhat Irish. Why would the test tell you that you’re from Canada?

“Mom? Do we have any family in Canada?” Her hesitation last only a moment but you notice it all the same.

“No, honey. We’ve never even been to Canada.” Your mom has a tell. She always lift her right eyebrow slightly whenever she’s lying to you. It’s something you picked up along the way when you watched her lie to her clients. Over the next few days you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something about Canada you need to discover.

“Maybe you’re adopted?” Hardin speculates. You’re lying on his bed while he’s placed himself in his desk chair.

“Don’t say that. My parents are my parents.”

“It’s possible. You said your mom had a weird reaction.” You hate that he’s making sense. You don’t want to believe that you’re adopted. This family is all you have and to find out it may be based on a lie would destroy you.

“But if they won’t tell me anything, I’ll never know.”

“So quick to give up?” Hardin asks with a smirk turning his laptop on. You can hear his mom rummaging downstairs and you wonder if she knows something. If maybe your mom told her something over a cup of coffee while 10-year-old you and Hardin played out in the yard.

“We could always look it up. Maybe you can access your file. If you have one.” He starts searching google for adoption agencies in Canada and even though you’re not remotely ready to consider you might be adopted, you still peek over his shoulder to see what he finds.

“If there is a file, it’s probably closed. I mean, all the shows always say those kind of cases are closed.”

“You mean TV-shows?” he chuckles not even looking up, “what the hell?” In an instance, you’re right next to him.

“What? What is it?” It’s an old article of a baby that was kidnapped. You look at the date only to realise that it’s your birthday. The baby was kidnapped the same day you were born. But that’s not the weirdest part. It’s the photo of what the baby would approximately look like now. It’s the spitting image of you. The article mentions a birthmark on the hip. The exact same place as your birthmark.

“This is seriously freaky,” Hardin comments. You tell him to close the article and pretend you didn’t find it. It’s too much information and you need to talk to your parents. But when it comes down to it, you’re too scared. It takes you weeks before you feel ready to do something. You’re terrified of the truth, of realising that your parents not only weren’t your biological parents, but that they kidnapped you as a baby. Who even does that?

“I think I need to find out,” you tell Hardin one day. He buys plain tickets to Canada within an hour. You lie to your parents as you’re packing your bag hoping that the universe forgives you. It’s not that you want to lie to them, but they’re not being truthful and you don’t trust them to tell you. In less than 24 hours you’re standing at the Canadian airport trying to catch a taxi. You don’t even know what you’re going to tell these people but all too soon you’re standing at the address mentioned in the article.

“I’m right here next to you. Just say the word and we’ll get out of here.” You’re so thankful for his support even if you don’t have the words to tell him right now. You knock on the door and your possible birth mom opens up. Her reaction is instant. Tears fill her eyes.

“Oh God,” she whispers almost reaching out to touch you.

“I found an article online of a baby that was kidnapped.” You hold up the picture with shaking hands. This may be nothing but you need to know. You need to know if you were robbed of this childhood. She invites you in for tea and you accept. Hardin is right behind you the entire time making you feel safe despite everything that’s happening. You’re pretty sure if he hadn’t come with you, your sanity would jump out the window. You try to keep the conversation with Diana light because you’re not ready to dive into the serious stuff just yet. At some point, her husband Joseph comes home from work. They’re nice people. At the end of the day, you have to return to England but you get their information to stay in touch. You want to stay longer but you’re also itching to return and confront the people who took you. Anger fills you when you think of the childhood taken. You agree to leave them a strand of hair for a DNA test so you all can get the answers you so desperately crave. It isn’t until Heathrow airport that you break down. It comes sudden and overwhelms you. Hardin holds you tight as you break apart. He keeps shushing you as he leads the two of you to the taxi outside.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup through the sobs but he just shakes his head. There’s zero judgement in his eyes and it isn’t until you’re parked in front of your house that you realise he still hasn’t let go of you. How did your life turn into an episode of Criminal Minds?

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asks. Maybe you should be scared to go confront them but the need for answers overshadow all the other feelings. You have to know and for some reason, you feel sure they won’t harm you.

“I think I have to do this alone.” So you hug him one last time before entering the house on your own.

“Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” So apparently the lie didn’t last that long.

“I went to visit Diana and Joseph. My birth parents.” You could hear a pin drop. They both stand still in utter shock.

“Anyone want to tell me why I was kidnapped?” You’re angry and hurt and terrified but you need to have this conversation in an attempt to find some peace. What you don’t expect is your mother to sit down with tears streaming down her face while your father places a hand on her shoulder.

“I had three miscarriages. It was horrible. After the third one, I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t go through the pain of losing a baby again. Instead we started looking at adoption agencies but it was expensive. There was no way we could afford it.” Shame dominates her features as she tells the story. You try to hold on to your anger but you’re looking at a broken woman. She’s unable to continue so your dad takes over.

“We finally found an agency that offered their services to a price we could afford. It was very discreet and we received no information. We didn’t know until after we got you. We never would’ve accepted it if we knew. You have to believe that. But when we heard about the missing baby, we’d had you for almost two months. And we couldn’t give you up. So we closed eyes and ears to everything on the news. In the end, we managed to convince ourselves that it wasn’t you.” It’s too much. You want them to be the villains who stole you away from your real life but you just feel sorry for them. Everything they went through. There’s no arguing that what they did was wrong and awful but they just look so sad and small standing before you.

“I need some air.” You don’t even look back but instead head straight out where you find Hardin.

“I know you said you wanted to do this alone but I figured you’d might need company.” There’s no hesitation as you walk into his arms. You have no idea what the future will bring. You want to know your birth parents. And you have no idea what to do with the people who raised you. It’s all just too much for you to comprehend right now. But you do know that Hardin will be right there through everything. In the chaos, he’s your constant and you’re forever thankful.

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1a-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

No excuses

》 Bakugo x reader

》 Word count: 5k

》 Overview: You were childhood enemies who always ended up stuck together, you were neighbours, got put in all the same classes, ended up living together in the UA dorms. Overtime you grew to accept each others company, maybe even enjoy it. So what happens when your new work lives separate you for the first time?

Every day was lacklustre.

You weren't sure what; but something was missing. Ever since you went pro and moved into your own apartment you felt as though your life lacked something. There was an empty hole but you just weren't sure what used to be there.

Perhaps you just missed those simple UA days? Being surrounded with your friends day and night and not having to worry about all the things pro heroes had to worry about? There was no doubt it was a much less stressful time.

Or maybe it was the fact you no longer had your family breathing down your neck every second of the day? You were an adult now and that came with a whole new sense of freedom. Maybe what you were missing was being surrounded by your loved ones all the time? You lived alone in your new apartment and it was a big difference in contrast to the UA dorms you lived in for three years.

You thought you'd enjoy the quiet but it turns out you found the silence painful. It was more peircing to your ears than any yelling or screaming you had in the dorms.

No matter how much you wondered what was missing you just couldn't seem to place your finger on it. It's not like you weren't keeping in touch with your friends and family. They called everyday, you certainly weren't lonely. So why was your heart still yearned for something... maybe even for someone?

With a sigh, you dried the last plate of the bunch and put it away. Finally done with your chores for the day. You dried your hands and went over to check your phone that had been thrown onto the couch. You saw a text notification pop up.

Blastard: (1 new message)

Oi! Idiot! Are you dead yet? I haven't heard from you in weeks!

You couldn't help but chuckle at his unique way of showing worry, though it would be a lie to say you weren't used to it by now. It was such a typical Bakugo move. You shook your head before typing out a reply.

Bad news for you, I live!

You hit send before throwing your phone back down. You felt awfully giddy about him texting you, which was a strange feeling, usually you annoyed the hell out of each other. As weird as it was; it had been awhile since you'd last spoken to him.

Maybe you were just happy he hadn't completely forgotten you exsisted, you figured once you went your seperate ways that you'd probably never talk again; unless it was work related.

You had grown up together, always forced to be around each other no matter how much you despised it. You were neighbours, you didn't go to the same schools, but you'd always hear him yelling through the walls whenever he was home, you'd always pass each other when leaving your houses on the morning, and to your 10 year old self? There was no worse way to start off your day than his stupid face being the first thing you see when leaving your home.

It was like you couldn't get through a day without running into him at least once.

Then you both ended up in the same highschool, UA, which meant you walked the same route everyday as well as being in all the same classes. Then you lived in dorms together for three years, which meant you were around your childhood enemy almost every minute of everyday.

It was like the universe was trying to torture you both.

You hated each other as kids, always getting into scrapes and arguments, but as you got older the hate died down into more of a friendly rivalry. You bickered non stop but you also grew to enjoy all those comebacks and quick retorts, it was like a never ending game of 'who can make the best comeback/insult'. It even made you laugh at times.

Eventually, somewhere during your UA days, you both got to a point where you could actually admit you were friends.

But after being stuck together for so long? You'd think you would be happy to have some peace and quiet around here. You no longer had to deal with explosions going off or yelling every 5 seconds. No yelling from downstairs or next door, no insults or smartmouthed comments.

Though, even you had to admit he had matured a lot since you were kids, he still kept true to his grouchy self, but he was no where near as violent or bad tempered. He'd calmed down a lot as you grew into adults and you were proud of him for coming so far.

You were about to go take a bath to relax after cleaning all day, but when you saw your phone light up again you couldn't stop yourself from diving for it.

Blastard: (1 new message)

The fuck do you mean? That's not bad news for me dumbass.

It was a little weird for him not to give a snarky reply but it's possible hero work was tiring him out as much as it had been tiring you out. You were about to tell him it was just a joke but then another message came through,

Blastard: (1 new message)

Have you been eating alright? I know you can't cook for shit and you're living alone now.

Your eyes softened at the message, a goofy smile spreading across your lips. Not only had he made an effort to message you first, something he rarely did, but he also was showing care for you? Your cheeks heated up and you took a second to press your face into a pillow, a way to collect yourself before you replied.

Aw, you care about me?~

I've been eating fine! Instant ramen exists for a reason! It's for people like me who "can't cook for shit" :P

His next reply was almost instant, it scared you how quick your phone was to sound with another notification.

Blastard: (1 new message)

Don't fucking tell me you've been living off of instant ramen this whole time-

You felt too shy to admit to the truth. It was true you hadn't been eating great since you had been living alone. Your job was so demanding you didn't have time to cook. Choosing fast options over home cooked meals had been your way of living for the past few weeks and admitting to it felt like a punch to your pride.

Blastard: (1 new message)

That's it, I'm coming over to make you an actual meal tonight. See you at 6.

You did a double take at the response. There was clearly no room to argue.

"He's coming over!?" You jumped up in a panic at your sudden self invited guest. Lucky for him you had a rare night off work, and lucky for you, you had spent the day cleaning up. Maybe it'll look like you have this whole "adulting" thing down.

After glancing at the time and seeing it was only 4pm you threw your phone down. You needed to freshen up before he came over.

For some reason you felt this pressure to look good in front of him? But you had known him since you were little kids! He wouldn't care, he's seen you look much worse, so why did you care about looking good this time around? You shook your head, sick of all this over thinking and went to take a quick bath. Once you were done you dried your hair and threw on a fresh pair of clothes.

You felt excited to see him again and almost-... Nervous? It was a strange sensation, you shouldn't be feeling nervous to see him, you used to see him everyday. Maybe it was because this would be the first time you'd be spending time alone in your new home? Yeah, that must be it!

Glancing up at the time you still had half an hour until he arrived. You decided to take your mind off of all your swirling thoughts by mindlessly scrolling through your phone until your door bell finally rang.

You pushed yourself up with a small groan. You walked to your front door, your heart raced in your chest knowing who was on the otherside of the door. You took a deep breath through your nose before opening the door to see your familiar, scowling, friend. He stood there, a bag in his right hand and foot tapping on the floor as if he had been waiting ages for you to open the door for him.

"Kat! Long time no see!" You beamed up at him only for him to roll his eyes and brush past you. "Shut up and show me where your kitchen is, you need a proper meal."

You couldn't help but smile as you noticed the bag he carried was filled with fresh groceries. He was alway so bad with words but it was actions like this that made you see how much he really cared about you.

"Through there." You nodded your head toward an opening and followed him through after shutting the door. He put all the ingredients down and you leaned back against the counter watching him prepare the food. "What? No 'Hi Y/n, how have you been?' You cut right to the chase as always." You chuckled softly to yourself earning a glare from the blond as you attempted to imitate his voice.

"First of all! I don't sound like that! Second of all, I'm only here because you can't take care of yourself." He scoffed before adding. "Still annoying as always."

'Why was I missing him again?' You huffed, blowing some hair from your face in the process. "So! Chef! What are we having?"

"Curry." Was his quick reply as he began to lay out and cut up the ingredients. You hummed in delight at the thought of homemade curry. It had been a while since you had a good home cooked meal. Your family sometimes brought you leftover foods knowing how busy you were with work, but they couldn't come feed you everyday. You were an adult now and you needed to learn to cope on your own! Even with a busy career life.

"You remember what I like?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with an emotion he couldn't quite tell, in order to avoid looking at your face he kept himself busy with making dinner.

"I've known you for over 10 years, just because I haven't seen you for a few months doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything about you, idiot." He tutted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You leaned back against the counter beside him, your lips twisted into a soft frown.

"A few months huh? It feels like longer..."

You did not intend for him to hear that but he did, and honestly? He agreed.

Without you around to annoy him every hour of the day, things just seemed to go by painstakingly slow. Without you his days were boring, and as much as he hated to admit it, your stubbornness, your quick remarks and sarcastic comebacks, as much as they annoyed him, they added a certain spice to his life.

They kept him on his toes, he liked the challenges you gave him, whether it was getting the last word, winning against you in training or just coming up with the best insulting nickname. He couldn't believe he actually missed it all, but he did, and honestly? This whole dinner thing had just been an excuse to see you again.

He missed you.

"Tch, feels like not long enough." He grumbled as he moved over to the stove to turn it on. You sent him a cocky grin, shifting your weight onto your other foot. "Oh yeah? Then why were you so quick to come over here?" You hummed, tilting your head. He knew you were teasing him, he could tell by the way the words melted from your lips like butter, you were practically purring as you grinned at him. It reminded him of a cat.

He decided not to dignify you with a repsonce and you took that as a sign of victory. You giggled before turning to grab a drink from the fridge. You cracked open a can of soda and upon hearing the unmistakable fizzing noise Bakugo's head shot around to you, his eyebrows creased together in distaste. "You shouldn't be drinking that shit!" He barked at you.

"Oh come on! I've cut right back on the junk food. Look!" You threw the fridge door open to display the variety of fruits and vegetables in front of him. "I've been really healthy! I've even been doing a lot more weight training! Soon I'll be as strong as you! Maybe even more so!" You smirked, he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look from your face. You shut the fridge door with your foot before taking another swig of your soda.

Bakugo scoffed, "You wish! You'll have to work a lot harder before you can even dream of matching up to my strength!" He sent you a toothy grin as he watched your shoulders deflate, eyes narrowing up at him.

Bakugo continued to put the chopped up ingredients into the pan, "Why have you been eating instant ramen this whole time if you have all that shit anyway?"

You turned your head away, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. It took a lot to swallow down your pride enough to mutter the next words. "You know I can't cook very well." It was painful to admit you were an adult with the cooking capabilities of a child. Between school and work placements you just never found the time to practise new recipes. Not to mention the fact your family usually cooked a lot of meals for you.

You had contemplated practising some recipes in the past but something always manages to come up! You knew working as a pro was going to be hard, that you'd be busy every day, but you didn't know it would consume your life to this extent.

Without another word you walked towards the living room. "Let me know when dinner is ready!" You sent him a cheeky grin as you left. Bakugo turned back to the food, grumbling something about how he wasn't a damn slave, despite being the one who offered his services in the first place.

Looking around, he finally had time to take in the room, he hadn't seen it since you first moved in and bugged him and kirishima to help move boxes. The room was well decorated, not a thing out of place. Despite the apartment being pretty small you had done well to make it homely.

As he made the curry, he added in some spices and when he picked up the shaker labelled "Extremely hot", He smirked. He recalled the good ol' days in the UA dorms. He sometimes went out of his way to spike your food with hot spices. Your face was always priceless! The thought crossed his mind to do it again. After all, it wouldn't affect him, he loved spices and, unlike you, they didn't turn his face red.

He sighed before shaking his head. You were both grown up now, and you needed to eat a proper meal. He hated to even think about it but he did care for you. More than he would like to admit. He always thought once he went pro and finally got away from you, this "curse" you two shared of always being stuck together wherever you went would disappear, and he would be happy.

But he wasn't, somewhere down the damn line he has gotten used to your annoying presence, he had grown to like your quick remarks, how you never backed down from him, you weren't afraid to speak you mind or put him in his place, and as much as all those qualities used to bug the shit out of him as a kid, he had grown to respect them, even-... love them?

He clenched his teeth when he felt his cheeks heating up. God, he hated this. He wasn't cut out for this lifestyle! Why was he even here!? He could be out training! Not pining over his childhood enemy! The curry sauce started to bubble over in the pan and he cursed to himself, once again he was so distracted with thoughts of you that he couldn't concentrate on the task at hand!

He finished making the food, doing everything he could not to let his mind wander back to thoughts of you. He grabbed a few plates before putting the rice and curry onto them. He yelled through to you that the food was done, "I'm only in the next room! You don't have to yell so loud!" He huffed in amusement, your words were ironic considering your volume matched his. He smiled at your never ending bite, you always had something to say.

Such a smartass. He shouldn't enjoy it as much as he did.

You came through, throwing the empty soda can into the trash as you passed and sat down in the seat beside him. You hummed in delight, "Smells so good!!"

"Of course it does! I made it!" He grinned, taking a bite. While the lack of extreme spice was underwhelming for him, he knew you would like it. Your face twisted into distaste at his smugness, "I forgot to never stroke your fat ego."

He growled, ready to yell at you for the remark but when he saw you take the first bite of food his anger was forgotten.

Your eyes lit up like fireworks on a cold winter night. "I also forgot how crazy good of a cook you are!" You beamed, happily digging into the curry. His features softened, something about seeing you enjoy his food so much felt really good. He almost forgot to eat himself as he watched you stuff your face. You had gotten some rice stuck to your cheek as you shoveled the dish into your mouth. It was so stupidly cute, a soft smile graced his lips.

You caught him staring, it was rare to see him smile, no cocky grin or smirk, it was a real smile. Soft, relaxed, happy. You thought your heart was going to jump out of mouth. You did not expect that sight when you looked up from your food.

You gulped, not because there was food in your mouth, but because the atmosphere had suddenly changed. There was an invisible weight ontop of you both, crushing you.

"What…?" You asked quietly, hiding your face behind your hair. He snapped out of it, realising he'd been caught he froze, his heart skipped a beat. However, there was no time for him to get embarrassed because next thing he knew he was throwing a towel at you "You got rice all over your face, idiot! Wipe it off! You look stupid!"

You grumbled as the fabric hit your face, yet complied and wiped your lips clean. You went back to eating, this time more carefully so you didn't make a mess. You noted the mild spices but didn't comment on them. It was unusual for Bakugo to not fire up his dishes with spice. The decision to make the curry mild definately wasnt for his own benifit. He'd done it for you.

It made you smile, and as much as you wanted to thank him for it you figured he wouldn't want you bringing up his strangely nice gesture since he had been so silent about it.

During the dinner you talked about your new work lives, how you'd been coping living alone, anything that came to mind. Of course, that came with a variety of witty comments and snarky comebacks, but it was just how you liked it. It was how it had always been, how you always wanted it to be.

Once the plates were clean you stood up, reaching over to grab his plate so you could clean up but his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You paused, looking up to meet his eyes. "I'll help clean." He said, picking up his plate and taking it to the sink. You smiled, following him with your own plate.

"Wow, cooking and cleaning? Has anyone ever told you that you'd be a perfect house wife?" You smirked at him as he filled up the sink with soap and water.

"At least I can cook." He shot back without missing a beat. You laughed st the remark, nudging his side as you pushed your wasy in front of the sink. You continued to chat as you cleaned up, you washed as he dried.

As you finished up scrubbing the last dish Bakugo made a comment about you eating like a pig at dinner which, in return, made you splashed his face using soapy dish water.

He growled when he felt the droplets soaking his face and hair, but hearing your laughter made it hard to stay his usual, grumpy self. Instead he settled for dipping his fingers into the water and flicking you back.

Your face scrunched up, eyes closing to avoid any soap suds getting in your eyes.

You took his reciprocation as a declaration of war and it soon turned into a mini, kitchen water fight. Laughter filled the once quiet apartment as you fought each other.

For a moment it didn't feel like you lived alone, for the first time in months you felt like that empty space in your life had been filled again.

You had to stop the water fight before you soaked the kitchen as well as each other. As fun as it was you didn't want to have to clean up for the third time today.

Once all the dishes were put away and you dried yoursleved using a spare towel; Bakugo narrowed his eyes at the front door.

He wasn't sure if he should go, a part of him didn't want to. He only came over to make you dinner, now that was over he had no reason to stay. Should he make up some bullshit excuse to stay? He didn't want you teasing him again.

Despite taking a few minutes to think up an excuse to stay, he came up with nothing. Grumbling to himself he kicked his foot against the ground and turned around to you, ready to say goodbye.

His eyes widened upon landing on you, you held up two gaming controllers, a grin on your lips as you pushed one towards him. "Wanna try finally beating me at mario kart?"

"What are you talking about! I win all the time!" He rolled his eyes and snatched a controller from your hands, taking on your challenge. He felt the weight lift from his shoulders, you were giving him a reason to stay longer and he wasn't about to turn that down.

"You beat me at super smash bros! But never mario kart!" You backfired, plopping down onto the couch as the console fired up.

"Then let's play super smash bros!"

"We do not play that in this household!" You stomped your foot at the thought of the game you could never beat him at. Bakugo scoffed and sat next to you. "You're such a fucking sore loser!"

You forced a laugh before sending him a glare, leaning closer to him. You reaction must have amused him as he smirked at you. "I do not want to hear that from you!"

"Shut up and let's play!" The first round started up, the familiar countdown sound ringing in your ears. You'd like to say things started pretty civil, but It didn't take long for you to start shoving each other as you battled for first place. There was a lot of yelling, combined with a lot of laughter and cheering. It was the most lively your apartment had ever felt, in just one night Bakugo was able to change all of that.

A few rounds turned into hours. You didn't even notice how high up the moon was in the sky. You were too busy enjoying each other's company, having more fun than either of you had experienced in months.

You shot out of your seat pumping your fist into the air as you passed the finish line in first place once again.

"HAH! You still can't beat me!” You boasted.

The blond threw the controller down, his teeth clenched tight as he grumbled. “Next time I’m bringing super smash bros!” You sat back down, giggling as you poked his side. “Who's the sore loser now huh? Big baby.” You teased, poking a finger into his side, much like poking a bear with a stick, it was a recipe for disaster.

He growled and jumped to you grabbing your hands to keep them away from prodding him. You started laughing again, squirming and battling with him, determined to keep attacking but your giggle fit made it hard to fight back.

As you were laughing you missed yet another rare smile on his face. He didn't know what was going on with him, maybe he was just in a good mood today? He had taken down a group of robbers earlier when he was on patrol, and taking down villains always felt good.

All he knew was that he never wanted the moment to end, it was nice to hear your stupid laughter again, to see you smiling as you tried to match his strength and fight back. He hadn't even realised that some point during your play fight he had knocked you down onto your back and was hovering over you.

He had always been the stronger of the pair so you lost fairly quickly. His hands pinned yours beside your head. "That was a good fight you put up, but it's still not good enough to match up to me." He smirked down at you

You stuck out her tongue at him, panting as you tried to kick your legs at him. Turns out he had thought ahead and pinned those down too. You huffed through your nose, tasting defeat was bitter.

You stared at each other, as the laughter died down so did the playfulness. The atmosphere became serious. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was some sort of unspoken feeling between you both. He gulped, noting the way your hair was sprawled out on the couch beneath you, creating a halo of hair around your head. Your eyes shone as they stared into his, he had never noticed what a nice colour they were, and your lips- they looked so soft..

There was a pull, an invisible red string tugging you closer to each other and connecting your hearts.

But, you both ignored it. He got off of you and sat back. He ran a hand through his hair, you both avoided eye contact.

Looking out the window Bakugo finally noticed that the moon had long ascended into the night sky. Had he been here that long? God, it must be passed midnight but he felt like he had only been here for an hour. He shook his head and stood up, You watched him with parted lips, your heart racing at the tension.

What was that feeling between you two? It was so strong. Did he feel it too? It was sending your head into a spin.

"I should go." He muttered, he didn't want to go, he really didn't but the words were leaving his mouth before he had time to process them.

He had felt it too, and he didn't know how to react. He hadn't felt anything like it before, it made his heart race, he felt weak and he didn't like it. He knew he felt- something for you? But was it enough to call it love?

You looked up at him, giving him a nod, not like he could see since his back was already turned. You stood up, arms wrapping around yourself as you walked him to the door.

There were so many unspoken words between you. So many feelings left unexpressed. You bit your lip, voice caught in your throat as you watched him silently slip on his shoes. He opened the front door, pausing for a second, hesitating... "See ya."

"Bye." You replied as he closed the door behind him.

The appartment suddenly ran cold, silent, a chill running across your skin. The silence cut through your ears like a sharp blade.

You pulled your arms tighter around yourself. How could you deny it? Having him around again had been amazing, even if just for one afternoon. You despised him as a child, but over time, throughout highschool, through building a silent trust, a friendship had formed, and then-… and then somewhere down the line it turned into more.

No matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you loved being around him, you had a strong bond, you had watched him grow and become a better person, you had seen each other at your best and at your worst. You had fought each other but also fought with each other. You cared for each other, you annoyed the hell out of each other, you had been through so much together.

He had always been there, even if you didn't want him to be. You had hated him and you had loved him...

You… loved him…

Your eyes widened, "I.. love him." You muttered, saying it out loud made it all the more real. A feeling of wanting to slap yourself silly for being so blind overcame you.

You loved him! Of course you loved him!!You had always been so focused on school and work that you hadn't even noticed you were growing feelings for your childhood rival?

You couldn't let him go again! How many more months until you got to see each other again? You had always somehow ended up stuck together, it felt like he would always be there but now you had witnessed what life was like without him around… you hated it! For the first time in your life, you wanted him around.

You couldn't sit around in your lonely apartment each day now you knew you were in love with that jerk!

"God damnit! Why did it have to be him." You ran to the door and flung it open, not even thinking of shoes as you ran out into the cold night air. "Maybe he didn't get far-"

You rounded the corner before colliding with what you could only assume was a brick wall. You winced, pulling back and rubbing your nose. You looked up, coming face to face with none other than the man himself.

You stared at each other in shock, he came back for you too? This whole scene, these feelings, neither of you could have ever imagined this is where you would've end up.

"I need to tell you something!" You spoke in unison, making you both cringe.

"You first." He crossed his arms stubbornly, wanting to know you were on the same wave as he was and hadn't just ran after him because he left something.

You sighed, rubbing your arm, glancing away for a second to collect yourself. You hadn't thought this far ahead so you had no idea what to say. You sighed, looking up to meet his eyes, the best way would be to face your feelings head on. No going back! Even if he rejects you, at least he would respect you being blunt with it, he hated when people beat around the bush.

"I love you." You said, your head lifted high. His eyes widened at your bold declaration, his tense demeanour dropping. "I wanted to tell you before you disappear for months again. So there you have it, I'm in love with you. Believe me or not I don't care. I just- mmph!" Hands yanked you forward by your hips, smooth lips molded against your own when he head dipped down.

It took a few seconds to reciprocate, but when you did he pulled you closer. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself, your legs felt weak, but that didn't stop you from kissing back.

You smiled into the kiss, you couldn't help it. Not only did the kiss feel great but the way he had pulled you in for it without wasting time with words was just such a Bakugo thing to do.

"I love you too, dumbass." He muttered when he pulled away, You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. "You have such a way with words~"

"Shut up." You giggled at him before you went back in for another kiss, longer, holding more passion as your years of pent up feelings finally reached the surface. Your heads tilted and turned, hands roaming each other's bodies, his arms wrapped around you, his body heat protecting your bare skin from the chill of the night.

He backed you up agaisnt the wall. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, you weren't sure how long you had been standing there but it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

It was so late not another soul was to be see. It was just you, him and the city lights.

His hand ran down towards your thigh, only for you both to jump back when the distance sound of a car honking ripped through your serentity.

Panting as you stared at each other, almost not believing you had just msde out with each other. You pressed your fingers to your tingling lips. A smile on your face, "So- uh, wanna come inside for a bit?” the mischief in your eyes did not match the innocent smile on your face. He knew exactly what you were planning, "Fuck yes."

And there was no way he was going to turn it down.

634 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 4 years ago

Note

🥺 Writing ask abt eah with apple and darling "You're not a machine or- or some thing, you're a person, and I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise"

Apple was getting ready to go home for a party- a birthday party to be more specific. Her birthday party if you really wanted to go into detail.

It was May, the beginning of summer. Not that summer truly meant much in Ever After High- it was a year-round school after all, but it did mean a little bit of time would be allotted for students to spend some time at home and relax.

However, Apple was not relaxed- not in the slightest. It was only a little while ago Darling had broken her curse and they realized they were each other’s destined true loves. It had only been a few weeks since they started dating officially and now Apple was going to have to go home and see her mother for the first time outside of video calls since the Dragon Games. Not only that- Her mother was planning on hosting a giant birthday gala for her- and she let her invite her entire class as well as half of Ever After just for fun.

Sure, this meant she was able to continue to hang out with her friends and be herself for at least the night, which she’d enjoy, but it also meant things could easily slip- especially if someone thought they could get something out of outing her to her mother. Darling tried to assure her no one would be that cruel, but Apple feared otherwise. Goodness knows Ever After High has no shortage of mischievous students. Kitty, Duchess, and Faybelle to name a few.

And goodness knows her mother wasn’t exactly the understanding type either.

At least her friends would be there... and Darling. Darling usually made everything feel a lot better. Though... perhaps tonight that wouldn’t be best. She had to act like nothing happened- that she wasn’t gay. Oh god... this was going to be a long break.

“Got everything packed?” Raven asked, a trunk of clothes levitating in dark purple magic next to her. Apple sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“Yep,” She faked energy and enthusiasm. “All ready to go to my mom’s.” Raven cringed.

“I know it’s gonna suck, but hey, we’ll at least be here for the night. That’s something, right?” Raven placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It... is,” Apple said. “But you know how it is. She’s all ‘follow your destiny- be popular- be pretty or else’ and blah.”

“I kinda know the feeling, yeah...” Raven sighed. “But hey, technically you do have destiny on your side. True loves kiss and all that.”

“True,” Apple chuckled a little, going to the window and whistling for birds, who quickly went to her trunk of clothes and lifting it for her. “But...”

“I know, not that easy,” Raven admitted. “Not everyone is blessed with parents who were already destined to be evil so they really don’t care if your bi or not.”

Apple snorted. “Yeah.”

“You got this. And remember- if anything should happen, Briar, Darling, and I are totally willing to take you in for a spell,” Raven reassured. This did very little to comfort Apple, though she appreciated the effort.

“Thanks,” She decided to say, though the thought that she could possibly be kicked out of her own home scared her more than when Raven decided not to sign the Storybook of Legends- which was why she was determined to keep her secret, no matter what.

“Well- my dad’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at the party,” Raven said, checking her mirror phone.

“I’ll walk with you,” Apple said. Raven nodded, and together they made their way down the many, many flights of stairs. The girls didn’t say much, as Raven was busy texting, while Apple was doing her best to practice her happy face before they finally reached the bottom, where Darling and Maddie were waiting for them.

“Apple! Raven! There you two are,” Maddie beamed at them, and Raven chuckled.

“Hey Apple,” Darling smiled giving her girlfriend a peck on the cheek. Apple smiled.

“Hey,” She said, before scanning around.

“Relax, the limo is outside, we’ve one last moment to ourselves,” Darling said, holding her hands.

“We’re literally right here,” Raven rolled her eyes playfully.

“Oh hush,” Apple rolled her eyes.

Maddie gasped. “You kiss Darling with that mouth?” she giggled.

“Whatever. I’ll see you two at the party,” Apple snickered, and Raven and Maddie took their cue and headed out.

“You ready?” Darling asked, pulling Apple away from the stairs.

“Not in the slightest,” She admitted with a pathetic laugh.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you the whole night if needed,” Darling said, tucking a loose strand of Apple’s hair behind her ear.

“That’s what I’m afraid of... I want to be with you so bad, but if she were to find out...” Apple didn’t need to finish the thought. She sighed.

“I know,” Darling sighed. “Just- know no matter what I’m on your side, and what we have is very, very real, and she can’t take it away from us, okay?” Darling asked, Apple nodded, leaning and the princesses shared a quick but passionate kiss.

“I know. I’ll see you tonight,” She said, giving her a hug, which Darling quickly returned.

“Should anything happen, just call for me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” She promised.

“My knight in shining armor,” Apple smiled at her.

“You know it,” Darling winked and teased. Apple gave her another quick hug before forcing herself to let go and go to her ride.

Not to Apple’s surprise in the slightest, her mother wasn’t there to pick her up, just the usual dwarf or two. The birds dropped off her luggage in the trunk of the limo and Apple took her seat. Once they started going, she immediately slumped and tried not to think as her mirror phone blew up with texts from Briar and her other friends in support and details about how great this party was going to be.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of being driven, she finally arrived at her castle, and walked right inside, the dwarves taking care of her luggage for her.

Not to her surprise once again, her mother wasn’t there to greet her. Instead, there was a table with some flowers and a single slice of apple pie (long cold by now) waiting for her, with a note that read:

“So happy you’re here my little apple dumpling. So sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you, but I’m very busy planning tonight’s party.

Hugs and Kisses,

-Mummy”

Darling hated when her mother babied her, but she wasn’t ready to face her quite yet, so she took her mother’s absence as a mercy more than the blatant neglect it was. Apple took the pie, tossed it in the nearest garbage, before stopping by the kitchen, grabbing an apple, and heading off to her room to pass the hours away until the party.

No place like home alright.

Her phone was still blowing up from texts from Briar, but Apple figured she’d just wait until Briar passed out to try and answer them all- goodness knows that girl sends 50 texts that could easily have just been four, though she said it “preserved the tone that way”. She loved Briar, but she could be a lot at times.

Apple sighed as she entered her room and flopped onto her overly fluffy bed and pondered if her mom kept any poisoned apples around so she could just skip this whole mess and wake up whenever Darling would be able to get past her mother’s guards and they could just run away into the sunset. Or if she could jump out her window and Darling could be there to catch her...

A girl could dream.

Eventually, she just decided to scroll social media to pass the time, making sure to like any and posts wishing her a happy birthday, though deciding not to comment. Sure it was highly unusual, but she simply did not have the energy today.

She was probably on her mirror phone for hours, when there was a knock at her door. Apple took in a deep breath, putting on her happy face, before opening and finding out her mother was on the other side.

“Apple darling, how was the ride home?” She asked, not waiting for Apple to invite her in.

“It was great mom,” She said, closing the door behind her.

“Good, good,” Her mother nodded to herself, before turning and looking her up and down. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

“No, Lizzie Hearts actually designed me this dress I’ve been dying to wear-”

“Oh, that’s good. Can’t have you turning another year older in that old thing,” She said, gesturing to her dress. Apple only nodded.

“You excited for tonight? I’ve spent all week planning for you,” Snow grinned, going to her tablet and tapping a few things.

“Yep! Totally hexcited,” Apple gave a thumbs up.

“You going to start on your hair soon?” Snow asked, not looking up.

“Yep yep,” It was getting harder for her to be enthusiastic.

“Good,” Snow nodded, turning off the device and looking back to Apple, thinking a moment before smiling.

“You’re growing up so fast my little apple, darling,” She said. “Time really flies when you’re away at that school.”

“I guess, yeah. Though- it’s almost hard to tell with all those tests,” Apple joked. Snow laughed.

“Professor Rumplestilskin keeps you busy?” The queen said.

“He’s just like you described,” Apple confirmed. Snow chuckled.

“Older I bet, though. Goodness knows that old miser has probably only gotten worse with age, unlike some people,” She grinned. Apple nodded once more, not really knowing how to respond.

Snow White paused. “Something on your mind, my little dumpling?”

“Nope! I’m absolutely perfect,” Apple internally panicked, quickly putting on a cheesy smile.

“Good, but do know if anything’s wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me, alright? One of the dwarves can handle it,” Snow patted her head.

“I know, mom,” Apple really hated it when she babied her.

“Right,” The queen nodded to herself. “Well then- I’ll let you get ready now. I really do hope you’ll like this party- All of Ever After is coming in your honor,” She said, beginning to exit.

“Yipee,” Apple said halfheartedly.

“Hate to go, but a few things need to be finalized. Hugs and kisses darling, see you later” Her mother blew a kiss as she headed out.

Once her mother was out of earshot, Apple flopped onto her bed, grabbed a pillow, smushed it against her face, and groaned.

This was going to be a long, long night.

.o0o.

Despite everything, Darling was glad to be home. Sure, her parents didn’t exactly know about the fact she was the white knight and she had to constantly make sure Daring didn’t accidentally spill the beans, but other than that her family was fun to be around- which was more than she could say for other families in Ever After. After all, her parents knew she was gay practically from the moment she was born- as a girl “prince charming” practically set it up from the beginning.

What they didn’t know was that she was dating Apple, meaning that Daring had failed and wasn’t Apple’s destined Prince Charming, but that she was instead. That was a secret she didn’t have to worry about Daring sharing because despite him realizing his destiny was likely with Rosabella, he was still deeply embarrassed by the whole thing.

Still, it was an unspoken agreement between the Charming siblings not to speak a word of what happened at the dragon games- not until Apple was ready to tell her mother anyway.

But despite all this, she was still happy to be home, as it meant she could return to her familiar backyard and practice sword fighting with her brothers in their favorite hang-out spot, where their father used to make them practice “saving damsels in distress”. It was a nice little spot that the siblings spent years building and crafting to perfection, with chairs, hammocks, some of Dexter’s favorite books, swords and dummies for practice, and a few mirrors to suit Daring’s vanity, as well as an elaborate bell system that reached back to the castle in case their parents needed them but didn’t want to go searching.

However, the one downside of the nook was that there was terrible cell reception.

“Darling, you have got to relax and stop stressing about Apple, the party isn’t for several hours, take a mirror and nap on the hammock. I know it works like a charm for me,” said Daring, admiring himself as he advised his baby sister. Darling rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t panicking as much as I am. I swear you and Rosabella have been texting constantly ever since the whole ‘winter in summer’ fiasco,” Darling pointed out, deciding to somewhat take his advice and sit in the hammock.

“I took his phone while we were in the car, it was driving me insane,” Dexter patted his pocket. Darling snorted.

“Don’t encourage him, it was rude,” Daring shot his brother a glare.

“Alright, calm down you two,” Darling rolled her eyes. “though- if you want we can settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“Uh-uh. No sword fighting- not today anyway. Mom said we have to stay ‘clean and pristine’ for the party tonight,” Dexter said.

“Lame,” Darling groaned, refreshing her mirror phone once more, but not getting any better results than the fifty times she tried before.

“Darling, you seriously need to relax. Apple’s dealt with her mother her whole life, she’ll be okay for a few days,” Dexter said.

“Easy for you to say,” Darling rolled her eyes, trying again but still getting nothing.

“Yeah bro, don’t underestimate this whole thing. You know how the Queen can be,” Daring pointed out.

“Okay, you got me,” Dexter huffed, putting a bookmark in and closing his book. “I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“You know what’d relax me? A good sword fight,” Darling’s eyes shone mischievously.

“I’m not gonna fight you- I always lose and always end up bleeding somehow,” Dexter shook his head. “Plus- mom said no fighting.”

“Daring?” She turned to her eldest brother.

“No can do Darling. Gotta stay handsome for the party, keeps away the suspicion,” He pulled out his mirror once more, checking out his own reflection again.

“You guys are so lame,” Darling groaned.

“What time even is the party, anyway?” Dexter asked.

“I think the palace doors open at 5, but that’s if you’re insanely early and-”

“-And everyone knows it’s best to be fashionably late as opposed to early,” Daring interrupted her.

“I’m gonna go get ready,” Darling decided, swiftly getting off the hammock.

“Isn’t it a little early to be getting ready? It’s only 3,” Dexter pointed out.

“Mom’s probably going to make me scrub the dirt from my nails like- 50 times before the party so we’ll see how long this takes,” She sighed. “The plights of being a girl.”

“You say that like Daring isn’t right there,” Dexter snarked.

“He makes a good point, Darling. I should be getting ready too,” He said, putting away his mirror.

“Dex, you coming then?” Darling asked. Dexter sighed, putting his book away.

“I guess so,” He said, and the Charming Siblings left their nook to head back into the castle.

After that it was hours of priming and preening, Darling barely had the time to check her phone as the handmaids chatted her ears off about gossip she couldn’t have cared less about, which was made worse when her mother came in and started talking about gossip amongst the royals about who was dating who and fashion trends or whatever. Darling was hardly paying attention, having never cared about these types of things.

It wasn’t like she disliked getting dressed up and doing her hair and painting her nails and such, it was just- when the maids and her mother did it, they hardly ever asked her what she wanted and Darling could never really get a word in on such matters. Hell- the most her mother had probably ever listened to her was when she came out, and when she begged her to let her go to Ever After High and stop being homeschooled. Other than that, she was pretty sure nothing got through, as her mom had a clear preference for Dex, and her dad had a preference for Daring.

Whatever, she had her own way to cope. If she could just get her phone...

“Aaaand, done. Oh now don’t you just look gorgeous,” One of the maids said, placing the final touch on her dress. Darling snapped back in the moment, taking a second to admire the dress they put her in, nodding briefly in approval, quickly walking over to check her phone.

No texts from Apple.

She was probably just getting ready too, Darling had nothing to worry about.

“So...? What do you think?” Her mother asked.

“It’s a lovely dress, thanks mom,” Darling said, not really looking at her, sending Apple a quick text.

“You teens and your mirror phones,” Mrs. Charming rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go looking for your brothers. Don’t mess up that hair.”

“Got it,” Darling still didn’t look up. Her mother sighed before leaving. Darling then thanked the handmaids for their service, then went down to the foyer to wait for everyone.

Apple still hadn’t replied to any of her messages. Darling shouldn’t have been surprised- it was her party and knowing the queen, she was probably keeping her busy or having her change a million times. She should just... attempt to relax. They’d be at the party soon enough, and Darling could give Apple her gift and keep her safe and happy and loved.

The gift Darling had gotten her was separate from the “family present” her parents had made for Apple. It was a necklace and a pretty simple one at that. It was gold, and had the engraving of an apple on the front, but on the back, there was a little rainbow. Darling hoped it was subtle enough and that no one would ask any questions, but she really wanted it to be special to her.

Darling had fallen for many girls throughout the years, but it was easy to say she cared about Apple the most.

Eventually, the rest of her family came down the stairs and it was time to go.

“You ready?” Dexter asked. Darling shook her head.

“I’m a Charming, I shouldn’t be this nervous,” She hugged her arms.

“It’ll be okay. You’re a lot tougher than you think- Apple too,” Dexter reassured. That did help a little.

“Thanks, Dex,” She said.

“No problem. Let’s just go and try to have a good time,” Dexter said, clearly trying to hype himself up too.

“That can’t be too hard, right?” Darling joked a little, stepping into the carriage.

“I hope not,” Dexter said, following suit, and the Charming Family was off.

.o0o.

Apparently, it could be that hard.

Once they arrived, Darling was greeted at the door by some gruff-looking dwarves who grabbed the family’s present out of Dexter’s hands (Darling kept her gift in her purse) and they were formally announced to the party room before being asked to quickly move aside for other guests. Say what you would about Snow White, but she sure knew how to get things done quickly and efficiently. Darling then went to go and try and greet Apple, but more dwarves said she couldn’t greet the princess until later. She briefly made eye contact with her girlfriend, who sent her a silent distress call she wished she could answer, but alas, she had to wait and try to party with everyone else.

Of course, it was nice to mingle with her fellow classmates, but they literally just got off of campus just a few hours ago, so outside of complementing everyone’s outfits, dancing a bit, and taking a few photos, there wasn’t much they could do. Piper and Briar did their best to keep things lively, but something about Apple being forced to sit on a throne the whole time away from everyone else really sucked the energy out of the kids, who wanted nothing more than to mingle with her.

However, after an hour or so, Snow White allowed for the festivities to “officially begin” and Apple was allowed down, though she was quickly overwhelmed by hugs from her friends, which made Darling chuckle as she waited patiently for her turn.

“You looked like you were going to die of misery if you had to sit there a moment longer,” Darling said as she hugged her.

“You have no idea. My mother says adding cushions to a throne looks unprofessional so that’s just solid metal baby,” Apple joked tiredly.

“You’re doing great, Apple. You got this,” Darling whispered. Apple hugged her tighter.

“I know she means well, but sometimes I seriously want to strangle her,” Apple joked.

“I know the feeling,” Darling sympathized as she let go so no one would be suspicious. Apple then continued hugging and catching up with other guests, while Darling waited steadily for her to finish. Apple finished, and swiftly- though subtly- returned to her girlfriend’s side.

“So... wanna dance?” Apple offered.

“Oh you know I’m a dreadful dancer, that’s not fair,” Darling shook her head as Apple grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor.

“The way I remember you totally beat Chase in that dance-off,” Apple pointed out.

“Everyone knows Chase is just about the worst dancer ever after, and we won only because he slipped and fell off the board,” Darling rolled her eyes, but it was too late, as Apple had already gotten her near the center and began to dance.

“C’mon, it’s fun,” Apple said, her eyes shining under the party lights. Darling sighed in defeat and awkwardly began to dance with her. Apple chuckled a little bit, but reassured her that she was doing great, and soon enough, she loosened up enough to the point that she was actually having a good time. Though of course, this became easier when she saw Apple was having a good time. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing. Perhaps everything was going to be alright- they’d find ways to reach each other and take care and know they were loved and everything was okay and was going to be okay.

After an hour or so, once again, the dancing was called to a brief pause, as Apple was dragged off to open her presents while the rest of the party continued, though Snow White did allow Briar, Raven, and Darling to join her. She went to her seat and began unwrapping box after box of presents, each more elaborate and fancy than the last, and Snow White hovered nearby making comments about them, thanking the families who gave them. Books, jewelry, dresses, tea sets, and all sorts of things were unwrapped one by one, only to be quickly taken away by dwarves, and Darling felt a twinge of guilt for getting her something so minimalistic and small.

However, after the last one was taken away, Darling took the small box out of her purse and handed it to Apple.

“A... personal gift? That’s highly unusual,” Snow White commented, and Darling internally panicked.

“I think it’s a sweet signifier of a good friendship,” Briar commented nonchalantly, though a bit on the nose. Apple smiled at Darling sweetly before opening it and gasping.

“Darling, it’s beautiful,” She said, admiring the engraving.

“Rather small isn’t it?” Snow raised an eyebrow.

“I paid for it myself,” Darling said, trying her best not to give the queen a dirty look. Apple then flipping it over and touched the engraving of the rainbow with her fingers slowly.

“Oh Darling, it’s absolutely beautiful,” She said softly.

“A... rainbow?” Snow raised an eyebrow, and Apple quickly turned it over.

“What’s suspicious about a rainbow? Rainbows are pretty,” Raven tried to defend it, and Darling realized she probably just made the biggest mistake of her life.

“Rainbows can mean a great number of things,” The queen said, looking at Darling.

“Rainbows are also just... pretty,” Raven continued to try, but she wasn’t as good as Briar.

Snow White thought to herself a moment, before ordering for the festivities to continue and for the cakes to be brought out and to begin serving it to the guests. However, after saying that, she turned back to Apple.

“Apple, darling? A word,” She ordered, walking out of the ballroom.

“Oh god- Apple, I’m so, so, so sorry-”

“No, Darling. Don’t be,” Apple stood. “I... I think I can handle this.”

Raven and Briar exchanged a look.

“Are you sure, Apple?” Raven asked.

“I... I think so. Briar, keep the guests entertained. I don’t want anyone to stop partying for my sake, okay?” She asked.

“If that’s what you want,” She nodded, before hugging her. “Just be safe.”

“I will,” Apple hugged her quickly.

“What about us?” Raven asked.

“If your mother so much as raises a finger-” Darling started, but Apple stopped her.

“I... I think I can handle this. She’s my mother, right? I’ve dealt with her before. I-i have facts and destiny on my side,” Apple said, trying to hide her nervousness.

“Okay... if you want to handle this alone, we’ll let you. But- if you need help, but say the word, alright? Raven and I can be there in a flash,” Darling said. Apple smiled a little, before frowning.

“I have to go... I’m sorry- she’ll get mad,” Apple turned away.

“Good luck,” Raven said.

Good luck. Right.

Apple took a deep breath before exiting out into the hallway.

.o0o.

She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart was pounding in her chest. She was terrified to confront her mother, but she had years of pretending everything was fine under her belt in preparation for this very moment. She entered the hallway to find her mother pacing ever so anxiously in her long and elegant white dress with her usual red cape. However, once Apple entered the scene, her mother’s pacing stopped.

“Why did that girl give you a present?” Her mother asked.

“Because I’m important to her and she wanted a way to show that to me,” Apple replied matter-of-factly.

“Important to her how?” Snow raised an eyebrow. Apple got a bad feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to say- she didn’t have to-

But well...

“Important to her how, Apple?” The queen demanded.

“W-well... you know how I got poisoned at the Dragon Games?” Apple said.

“By the Raven girl, I presume?” Snow raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly her mom, but kinda- that’s not important. What’s important is that it was the apple- like from our story,” She explained. “You know- the ‘true love’s kiss will break the spell’ apple?”

“Apple, I know my own story,” She gave her a look. Apple tried her best not to crack under it.

“Well, I was poisoned and in a coma, and Daring tried to kiss me and- well... it didn’t... work,” Apple said.

“What? What do you mean Daring didn’t work? He’s supposed to be your destined prince, how can this be?” Snow demanded.

“I-i don’t know- well... I do kinda know...” Apple whispered.

“I demand an explanation,” Snow ordered.

“Well- after Daring’s kiss failed everyone was kinda just gonna give up, but Darling was there, and she had this crazy idea, a-and... wellllll...” Apple didn’t finish.

Snow White paused.

“You mean to tell me that... princess broke your little curse?” She asked, seething with hatred.

“Y-yes,” Apple nodded.

The queen paused again.

“And what happened after?” She said coldly.

“W-well for awhile nobody would tell me what happened out of fear of how I’d react, until Darling eventually told be during the whole ‘snow in summer’ fiasco and well- then we... started... dating..?” Apple said that last part quieter than the rest.

“This is absolutely ridiculous- do you seriously expect me to believe all this?” Snow crossed her arms. Apple blinked.

“Mom- it’s the truth,” She stated. Her mother laughed.

“That’s impossible. The Storybook of Legends would never say such a thing,” She said. “The girl must’ve simply done CPR, gotten the piece dislodged from your throat or something.”

“Mom, that’s not what happened- you know how the curse works, ‘true loves kiss’. Darling Charming is my true love,” Apple argued, getting angry now.

“Don’t you dare address your queen with that tone,” Snow snapped. “The amount of disrespect you’ve had today is outrageous. First the complaining, then the lack of focus, then the lies? I am your mother, but I am also your queen, and I expect the utmost respect, is that understood?”

“Mom, for the last time, I’m not lying! I’m in love and am dating Darling Charming. She broke the curse and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Apple asserted, tears now threatening to spill.

“What absolute ludicrous. I will not take such blasphemy. Such a relationship is impossible. Go to your room until you’re ready to tell me the truth,” She commanded.

“N-... No.” Apple put her foot down.

The queen paused.

“No...?” She asked, her eye twitching.

“No. I’ve already told you the truth, so I’m not going anywhere,” Apple glared at her.

“No daughter of mine would speak to me with such blatant disrespect,” Snow White was aghast.

“Mom, whether or not you like it, me and Darling are destined for each other, and there is nothing you can do to change that. Even Principal Grimm agrees with me- Principal Grimm!” Apple exclaimed.

“Do not raise your voice at me, young lady.” The queen threatened.

“Then listen, for goodness sake,” Apple threw her hands in the air. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth, and you refuse to believe me! Why? For some- stupid outdated idea?”

“I’ve had enough of this attitude- go to your room. Now.” Snow ordered again.

Apple didn’t move.

“I won’t ask again, Apple. Go. To. Your. Room,” She stepped forward, causing Apple to take a step back.

“G-go ask Principal Grimm if you don’t believe me,” Apple said, trying her best not to crack. Snow slowly walked towards her daughter, until Apple was backed against a wall. The queen grabbed her face.

“There are hundreds of street orphans far more worthy of your destiny than you are. Do not forget this.” She quickly let go, before walking away, while Apple stood there, dumbstruck.

Eventually, her knees gave in, and she collapsed into sobs, and Darling burst through the door, and Darling immediately wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Apple, it’s alright, I’m right here,” Darling did her best to soothe.

“She doesn’t believe me- sh-she said- sh-she s-sa-said-”

“It’s okay, Apple. I know... she’s wrong. She doesn’t believe you,” Darling tried with all of her might to squeeze the sadness out of her, but nothing was working.

“Sh-she said hundreds of o-orphans are f-far more worthy,” Apple hiccupped, and Darling’s heart broke.

“Apple, she had no right to say that. You aren’t some... machine, you’re a human person. She had no right to ever treat you or make you feel that way,” Darling soothed, but Apple continued to cry, which she couldn’t blame her for.

This sucked.

“I love you Apple, you know that, right?” She asked. Apple nodded her head.

Good. At least she knew that...

“If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure my parents or Briar’s or even Raven’s wouldn’t mind, okay?” Darling said. Apple nodded again. Darling kissed the top of her head.

This really, really sucked.

“It’s gonna be okay, Apple...” She practically whispered.

“Y-you promise?” Apple looked up at her weakly. Darling wiped some of the tears from her eyes.

“I promise... maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but I promise, someday it’s gonna be okay, alright?” She asked softly. Apple nodded slowly.

“Okay...” Apple rested her head on Darling’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” Darling asked. Apple shook her head.

“I wanna stay here... with you,” She said hoarsely. Darling nodded her head.

“I can do that,” She said, stroking her face softly, wiping more tears away.

And she meant it. She’d stay right there until Apple felt better, no matter how long it took. Apple knew it, Darling knew it. And despite everything, that did make Apple feel a little bit better.

She was loved. Perhaps not by her mother, but if she didn’t love her, that was her mistake.

Her mother was wrong.

What she and Darling had was love, and nothing could change that.

#my fics #ever after high #dappling #darling charming #apple white #eah #snow white #snow white eah #long post #tw homophobia #tw abuse #the charming siblings #dexter charming #daring charming #tw abusive parents #homophobia

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